Orestes
by Aublanc
Summary: Thanos never pulled Loki from the void, and the invasion of New York never happened. But the peace is only an illusion, and years after Loki jumped from the Bifrost he falls, quite literally, into the life of one Tony Stark. Broken by the emptiness, Loki struggles to pull himself back together in time to stop the Mad Titan from ruining everything.
1. Chapter 1

The quoted portions at the top of each chapter are lyrics from A Perfect Circle songs, and will be for the rest of the story unless noted otherwise. Each one is relevant in some way to the chapter, so if you want go and listen to them.

If you like the story, please review. Thoughtful reviews will get replies. Also, a big thank you to my beta Wolf Mirage.

* * *

"_Little angel go away,  
Come again some other day.  
The devil has my ear today,  
I'll never hear a word you say.  
He promised I would find a little solace,  
And some piece of mind.  
Whatever, just as long as I don't feel so:_

_Desperate and ravenous.  
I'm so weak and powerless._"

-o-o-o-

_Red._

Smiles, sun, shadows.

_Gold._

Disappointment, desire, despair.

_Blue._

Lies, loathing, leaving.

Colors flashed through Loki's mind in torrents: memories stripped to only the barest of impressions. They roared up from silence, reasserting awareness of the world. He gasped at the sudden influx, lungs deflating uselessly as thoughts slammed back into his mind. For minutes they blared, loud and high and demanding. Then the vivid splashes faded back into a tolerable murmur, leaving nothing behind but a sea of darkness.

Stretching infinitely before him, the void devoured all light. No dancing, shining stars were permitted to enter here. The darkness was complete, and even summoned fire could illuminate naught but his pale, taut flesh. It was like existence ceased to be: a true epitome of nothingness.

But something did exist there, suspended in inky black. This place was now Loki's home and prison. At times, it was all he could remember. To think there was something other than this, a color other than black, was ludicrous. Only in memory or magic was there something different, and even then it was just a hopeless mockery. He was never going to get out of the void. He fell in, and now he would stay here forever.

When he let go of the spear, he had expected to die. It was a decision born of despair and guilt; he had craved it. It was suppose to be easy. He let go, he fell. And as his brother- reaching in vain, shouting his name – faded from sight along with his father- "_No, Loki_" -he had expected to void to swallow him, to kill him. He expected the suffering to end, for everything to end. His life was the only thing left. Everything else had been taken from him. All he could ask for was for a finale : the curtain close on the bitter pit his life had, without warning, become.

But in the end, even that was denied him. The void took the stars, the warmth, the air, but it did not take him. His lungs burned, seared infinitely, but he did not die. Hunger hollowed him, but he did not die. Thoughts tore into him, fueled by the **black, black, black** everywhere, but there was no reprieve; he did not die. It was suppose to be over quickly. Freefall... then _freedom_.

Loki gave a breathless laugh at the thought, arms wrapped protectively around his shuddering chest. After all, it truly was hilarious how everything in those few days just went so wrong. It took an hour of asphyxiating in the void for the immortal to realize that he had made a horrible mistake. For all of its emptiness, this abyss was still in the Nine Realms- a metaphysical plane of existence. It was reminiscent of deep space, devoid of means of survival, but it wasn't the same. He had screamed, sound silent around him, when he realized just what he had doomed himself to. He had wanted to be rid of his sorrows; now it was all he had left.

The first few days had somehow been the worst. Even later, when the world was nothing but a blur of intense pain, had not been as bad as the beginning; because in the beginning, he still had hope. He thought maybe he could still die, even though logically he knew it was impossible. Or maybe, just maybe, someone would come looking for him. His brother- no, not brother, but oh how he wanted him so- would come barreling in on that damnable hammer of his, laughing and so ridiculously forgiving. It'd never happen, but lost in timeless pitch, he hoped and dreamed. Sometimes he deluded himself so fully that for moments he thought for sure he'd be rescued. Unlike now- where he allowed himself to drift with listlessly- he had twisted and strained, searching futilely for life or liberty. He would spend hours teleporting himself, envisioning anywhere that wasn't here in hope that something would click. But there'd only be that familiar feeling of twisting in his guts and rippling on his skin as he relocated himself to another expanse of emptiness. At least, he thought he shifted. He couldn't even tell if he had moved when everything looked the same.

Then a month went by, filled with nothing but black and agony and black, and he faced the truth: no one was ever coming for him again. He messed up one too many times, and this was his punishment- to float forever in shadow, denied any realm to call his home. Not Asgard, not even Jotunheim. Just the forgotten space in between.

And Loki knew what this place was doing to him. He was tenacious, using everything he learned in his thousand years of life to keep his brain together, but it still tore his sanity. In the beginning, he recited poetry and spells in his mind, mouth miming the words. Then when he started stuttering over the lines, he switched to simply thinking about anything and everything he could to keep the silence at bay. However, such efforts were not enough; even his running commentaries would eventually cut off without warning, and he wouldn't even realize it until someone yanked the volume back up again.

In the end, it just hadn't taken long before he started losing touch with reality- for what was reality when there was no sight, no sound? Robbed of all senses, lost with no direction, there was no such thing as reality. The years ticked by, taking with them his mind. He could feel himself slipping, sliding, deeper and deeper, into an embodiment of his environment.

Ironically, the first to fade was his anger. It wasn't gone, not by a long shot. Sometimes his fury overcame him so suddenly and completely that he spent days screaming and shouting and thrashing, mouthing every slight upon his person for no one to hear. But in between such explosive fits, he could no longer fuel the furnace that had led him to genocide. There was no energy, no drive. Holding on to his grudges served him no purpose here besides allowing insanity to claw at him that much harder. So the hate slipped between the gaps.

Not that it really mattered when everything else left him too. His sorrow, his joy, his pride, his envy- Loki knew he had become nothing more than mass of continual agony and blankness. When moments such as these struck him, when his mind was his to use once more, it was hard to feel horrified about what he now become. He still tried to fight it off, to preserve what he had left; Loki had always been determined and unflinching in his goals, and while the void robbed him of many things, it could not rob him of who he is.

He is Loki: the greatest spellcaster in the Nine Realms. He is a genius who mastered the lost arts and is virtually a walking library of all that is arcane. He is the God of Mischief and Lies, master of trickery and beautifully intricate plots. He is Asgardian-

"_Am I cursed? What am I? What more than that?_"

Blue- rich in shade, like pure snow against a clear morning sky. Vile, wretched blue, roiling like sludge and thick as muck -exploded in his head. It gushed from the depths, seeping easily into his cracked and crumbling walls.

"_The Casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it? Tell me!_"

Loki struggled, limbs twitching uselessly as he fought to keep from going under. The attack was sudden, as they had all come to be recently. He wasn't ready to fade out yet. He had only just regained himself. However, as the blue pushed out the black- he wasn't sure anymore which he hated more, which had hurt him more -he felt himself slipping into his worst memory.

"_I- I'm the monster parents tell their children about at night? You know, it all makes sense now. Why you favored Thor all these years._"

Desperate, he summoned his last defense for solidifying his senses. Magic drawn from his brimming reserves flickered to life in his finger tips, searing his sensitive eyes. Illuminated dimly by the green glow, pale hands flickered in his watery gaze. The image was horribly blurred, but it was enough to discern that he was still disguised as an Asgardian. Jotun blue had not crept upon his flesh as well.

Such an assurance was hollow, as he knew no matter what skin he wore he'd still be a monster inside. Even so, he allowed his magic to flare again and felt his bones twisting- tugging his skin into a new form. When rolling eyes managed to connect to where his new hands were, it was now hooves that greeted him. Still the sight was unable to distract him from the truth, and he warped his form again. Now it was massive paws. Again. A scaly belly. Again, again, again.

Each new perversion of his body, each new lie, was accompanied by an increase in panic. The blue was still flooding his mind, bringing with it remembrance and revulsion. He wanted to hide, to forsake everything he knew he was- Jotun, monster, runt, worthless, abandoned -but there was no reprieve. His anatomy shifted one last time, returning him to his most favored illusion just as the blue finished erasing everything else from his mind.

"_Because no matter how much you claimed to love me, you could never have a frost giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!_"

Having lost the battle, Loki drowned in the blue. He suffocated and it crowded, forbidding any fluttering thoughts from registering. Broken, half formed stimulus sparked through his neurons, but they received no response. Even the sensation of something wispy brushing against his skin, of his limbs being pulled down by an invisible force, did not register. When the world suddenly erupted into a cacophony of sounds and lights, he did not notice. His eyes only stared, glassy and unseeing, as his body hurtled towards the ground.

-o-o-o-

"No, bad Dum-E! Bad! Didn't I tell you to stay in the corner? There was a reason for that."

Dum-E, who had been brandishing the fire extinguisher hopefully, whirred sadly. He lowered his arm and wheeled backwards, dunce cap tottering on his head. Tony sighed and turned back to the project that was still sparking pitifully. It was the fourth one to short this morning... At least he thought it was morning. He didn't think he'd been working that long. It wasn't worth the trouble. But right, the malfunctioning. Each one, no matter how perfect his calculations had seemed, went haywire after being activated. The first one even caught fire, which was of great excitement to the overeager robotic arm and ended up with half the lab covered in copious amounts of foam. Which brings him back to the fact that this really was just not worth the trouble.

Groaning, Tony swept the ruined device off the table and reached for an ever present bottle of alcohol. He knew Pepper wouldn't be pleased, but then again he was only working on the damn project because she told him to "not piss off secret government agencies". Personally, Tony just thinks she didn't want to upset 'Mr. Agent' that kept popping up at inconvenient times. Really, working on this just seemed like a terrible idea. Why did he agree to this?

"Jarvis, why did I ever agree to this?" He complained, pushing away from the desk and slouching in his chair, half-full bottle dangling from his fingers.

"Well, sir," started the ever present AI in his British drawl, and Tony just knew he'd regret asking, "According to what you said thirty-four hours ago, you wanted the 'freaky pirate with anger problems to stop bothering you for making it obvious that his security system wouldn't even keep out a prepubescent fifth grader'. It would also appear that you are trying to convince Miss Potts that you are not completely irresponsible, though that effort most likely won't get you anywhere."

Yep, shouldn't have asked. Of course Tony just had to program Jarvis to be snarky, and of course the AI then chose to be relatively polite to anyone that wasn't him.

"Whatever. I'm done with this for now." He flung himself to his feet, and if he stumbled just a smidgen drunkenly then no one had to know. Finishing off the bottle with a few quick chugs, he tossed it to the floor and pointed to Dum-E. "Clean that up. And while your at it, finishing cleaning up the mess you made earlier. I want this room spotless when I come back."

The robot gave an elated chirp and immediately set out from his corner in search of the broom, though Tony saw how he lingered at the fire extinguisher. It was a good thing that little quirk never got programmed into Jarvis, or his workspace would be a mess... Well, more than it is already.

"Jarvis, I want you to review the scans of the last test run. Try and figure out what went wrong this time, then correct the calculations. We'll try again... later. After I get some more to drink." There was a loud crash from where Dum-E was doing... something. "A lot more to drink."

"Of course, sir. And when Director Fury calls, what would you like me to tell him is the cause for delay?"

"Tell him I had to sleep or something. That's what normal people do, right?" Tony walked out of his lab, talking as he went up the winding staircase. "Damn man is a slave driver. I bet he has a little screen under that eye patch of his so he can watch us all suffer while he just stands there all mightier-than-thou in his fancy hovercraft."

"I'm sure you are exactly right, sir," the AI drawled. "When would you like the next draft of 'All Your Base Are Belong to Us' to be finished by?" Jarvis intoned as Tony rummaged around in the kitchen cabinets, frowning as he kept pulling out empty bottles.

"Why don't you- Ah, found one." He pulled a full bottle of Jack Daniels out of obscurity. "Hmm, let's see..." Tony tapped his chin in mock thoughtfulness as he made his way to the couch, flopping over the back of it and sprawling over the cushions. "You know what, I think I want to go out and party. Why don't you just get it done by tomorrow. You don't need to waste server space making it a rush job."

"And by 'tomorrow' do you mean later today? Because it is currently nearing three in the morning." Tony blinked at that. He could have sworn in was noon. He dragged himself into a sitting position, craning his head to look over the back of his -sinfully- comfortable sofa.

"Really? You aren't pulling my leg, are you Jarv?" But a quick look out the window- how had he not noticed it before? The walls of this house were all mostly glass. One would think he'd have noticed the absence of the lovely California sun outside- confirmed that it was the middle of the night.

"Certainly not, sir. It is 2:56 A.M., Monday." And look at that, it wasn't even the right day. Well damn.

"Think there's any hot chicks still out?" He raised a hand, halting the insulting response that was probably going to follow. "Don't answer that. I'm sure there are. It's Malibu, I'll find someone. It's been too long; all work and no play."

"You 'partied' not even a week ago, sir."

"Exactly. Like I said, all work and no play. At this rate Captain Hook is going to ruin my status as number one playboy. I'll end up like that blue and red guy. Jarvis, prep the suit. Daddy's going out."

Jarvis sighed- seriously, why ever did he program his AI to do these things? Wasn't the point to get rid of nagging assistants? -and started preparing the Mark Eight for flight. "As you wish, sir."

Turns out there was no shortage of girls willing to go home with the legendary Tony Stark, and he ended up picking up some brunette around five o'clock. Lauren... Lorry, Laura? Lola? Something like that. He's quite glad, though a bit surprised, that she didn't vomit all over his freshly cleaned armor when he drunkenly flew her to the house. Luckily she was also too smashed to realize he nearly dropped her three times, but that's another story. They both made it to the roof in one piece, Jarvis getting his revenge by yanking the suit off while Tony tried to keep from falling over, and the rest of the night went flawless. Everyone was happy with how the morning went, and those who wouldn't like what he was doing didn't have to know.

So as always, Tony's nightmares had to go and ruin the perfect morning by startling him awake just a few hours after he fell asleep. He lay ridged in the bed, Lavender's (Lilly's?) arms and legs wrapped around him while she continued sleeping. Careful not to alert the woman to his distress, he tried to calm his breathing and get his body to relax. But when flashes of dark caves and fire continued to assault him, he realized it was futile trying to fall asleep again- normally he'd have just gotten up immediately, but he wouldn't have minded a repeat of last night before kicking Lexi out of the house -and untangled himself from his bed partner. Years of experience let him slip away unnoticed from his guest, and he trusted Jarvis to deal with her when she woke up.

Once he was out of earshot of the bedroom, Jarvis quietly greeted him and proceeded with the usual daily updates. Tony let the mechanical murmur soothe his pounding heart as he made his way down into his sanctuary. When he caught sight of the trembling in his fingers as he typed in his access key he ignored it, confident that a few hours tinkering around would take the edge off. And if it didn't, alcohol never failed to comfort him; sometimes he just had to drink enough to make him pass out. Healthy? Probably not. But it was better than the phantom feeling of hands and the irrational panic that accompanied them.

"Hey Cinderella, how's the cleaning coming along?" He called as he stepped into the lab, glad to note that there was nothing obviously wrecked. However, he could never be too sure with his oldest. Last time Dum-E broke something important he just shoved a million little pieces of custom coffee machine under one of the cars. Which, in turn, destroyed the car the next time Tony tried to take it out for a quick spin. That had not been a good day.

When there was no answering chirp, the engineer narrowed his eyes and peered around the room a second time. "Dum-E? Dum-E, what did you break this time?" Still no answer. "Jarvis?"

"I believe Dum-E has accidentally trapped himself in the supply closet, sir." Well that'd explain it... Although the closet didn't have a lock. Tony wearily ran a hand through his hair as he made his way to go rescue his special but endearing robot from whatever mischief he had gotten himself caught up in. He paused before the door, hearing the faint, ominous clanging of metal coming from within. "Dum-E, this better not make me regret refusing to donate you to that city college." Well, no point in delaying the inevitable. He pushed down on the handle, leaning cautiously against the door as it creaked open...

Only to slam it shut again as a giant metal beam came swinging towards him. "Holy shit!" The door bucked in his grasp as the pole pierced through the wood mere inches above his head. "Dum-E!"

An apologetic 'vvrrrr' was barely audible through the new peephole, and Tony banged the back of his head against the door. "Every time I leave you alone you do something! Every _single_ time!" Dum-E whined again. Tony took a deep breath. It was too early for this, and now his curiously missing hangover was deciding to reacquaint itself with his brain. "I'm going to open this door now. If you still have the urge to throw things like a Paragon, I'm going to have to ask that you resist for the sake of my continued well-being."

Bracing himself, Tony cracked the door open again. When nothing tried to brain him he pushed it open completely and took a step forward- only to stumble on a spilled-over toolbox. "Huh. I could have sworn I didn't keep tools in here. Not after..." Tony trailed off as his eyes finally took in the sight before him. 'Chaos' would be the first word that came to mind. 'College' was admittedly a close second. Dum-E bowed his head in shame from where he was tangled up in electrical cords dangling down from the ceiling tiles.

"Jesus, Wreck-It Ralph. Make a mess of things why don't you." If it was possible the robot looked even more downtrodden. Tony mussed up his hair again and picked his way through the wreckage to stand by his trouble child. Putting a hand on the flat of the metal arm, he scoped about and tried to figure out the best way to get Dum-E free without ruining the electricity on half of the house. "Alright, alright. I'll get you down from there. Just give me a second." Tony started heading back towards the up-ended toolbox when Jarvis interrupted.

"Sir, there is an incoming message from Director Fury." And this morning just seemed to be off to a great start. To think it had looked promising just a few hours ago. He just knew something completely obnoxious was going to happen before the day was over at this rate.

"I don't really want to talk to him right now. Can't you just tell him I'm out defending the world from great evil and will get back to him after all of the dark magicians have been defeated? And hey, Dum-E, hold still or I might decide to cut your wires too."

"I'm afraid I can not do that, sir. He said if you do not talk to him now he'll force his way in."

"Kill joy. Whatever, let's hear what Jack Sparrow has to say."

A new voice came over the speakers, a rough contrast to Jarvis's smooth accent. "Your sissy little pet names got old years ago, Stark." Ah, Fury... The man never did like Tony. Which is fine with him, since he's not going to try and to get the stern man in his bed anytime soon... And there goes the appetite he didn't actually have. "Why don't you grow up sometime? It'll do wonders for people's opinion of you. Now have you finished the Doombot hijacking device you were asked to make?"

Just mildly paying attention to the call coming through the ceiling, Tony continued carefully cutting the wires that entangled Dum-E. "Ouch, that hurts. You're saying you don't think highly of me? And here I thought you were coming to me for help because you thought I was a genius... Oh wait, I am a genius."

"Really? Because I remember that 'genius' of yours promising to have the device done in a day, and yet you still haven't been able to figure it out," Fury growled, and Tony could just imagine the glower the guy was giving his phone. Fate named him well.

"So I'll have it done by tomorrow. There's no hurry. Aaaaannnd..." Tony clipped the last clump of wires holding Dum-E in place with a flourish. "Done. Now go somewhere else." With a grateful chirp at his freedom, the robot maneuvered his way out of the closet and headed towards the garage. Tony took one more look at the mess before leaving as well, deciding that he had no desire to redo the electricity today.

"Actually Stark, there is a hurry. Doom is attacking Washington as we speak, and we were counting on you to hijack one of the bots for us before he went off the radar again. But it seems we'll just have to send you in to mindlessly blow stuff up instead."

Oh look, now he can check off 'defend civilians from supervillains that have serious grammar issues' from the list of things that were going wrong today... Yep, today sucks. He'll have to tell Jarvis later to mark this day in the calendar so next year he can spend it drunk out of his mind instead.

"Is that suppose to be a subtle command for me to suit up?" Jarvis had already pulled one of the suits up in the lab dock, and Tony stepped onto the platform as Fury's voice continued to thunder from his ceiling.

"Just get your sorry little ass to Washington. Captain America is already there helping with the evacuation. Your job is just to take out the bots. It should be simple enough that even you can't screw it up."

Not even bothering to deign that with a reply, Iron Man erupted from the house like a red and gold missile. Live feed and directions filled the HUD as Tony angled off towards the Capital City, repulsors blaring. After his flight was stabilized, he appraised the situation channeling into his screen. Most of the footage showed Spangles waving on a couple of terrified congressmen and yelling at the police in between throwing that ridiculously gaudy shield of his (though the rest of the man's armor was awfully ostentatious as well, and no that was not hypocritical of Tony) at the few Doombots loitering around. Other feeds were focused on the bots that were zipping around and blowing up various important democratic institutions. More showed Doombots plowing down civilians as they tried to flee towards the designated areas.

And Fury thought just two of his would-be 'Avengers' were enough for this mess? If the man was still trying to get his initiation approved, having only two superheroes- one of which would take another... 24 minutes, according to Jarvis's calculations, to arrive- assist with stopping the complete demolition of the District of Important American Functions was really a foolish move. It made them look unable to handle threats... Or maybe that was his game plan. Make them seem weak as kittens on their own, and then stick the five together for a villain trouncing lion. Tony would almost congratulate the man for his crafty plan were it not for the fact that by withholding help there was far more casualties than there had to be. But from what Tony could glean by reading Fury's files on the 'Avengers Initiative', the man actually thought his little piecemeal hero team would be far more effective in the long run. To be honest, Tony thought the Director was delusional if he thought the people he selected could actually work together, Tony's "doesn't work well with others" notwithstanding. They all were just a mess... except for maybe Rogers. But that was different.

Because Fury kept trying to throw them all together, they've all worked with one another at some point- whether in combat or on the more intelligence based part of fighting evil. Tony even had the extra pleasure of dealing with Romanov as his creepy stalker assistant. He can't say he particularly enjoyed working with any of them, except for maybe Banner. That was only science work though, and Mr. Big and Green has been steadfastly refusing to enter actual battle in fear of losing control. Not that he hasn't gone off the wall in the past few years. The irony of one such freak fest was that it was the only time the other four actually fought side by side. They worked pretty well, though the fact that it was one of the 'Avengers' that leveled the small town did not help Fury's case at all.

"Sir, approaching active combat zone. Switching power back to combat systems."

Tony held his arms out in front of himself as he began to rapidly slow down. He turned his attention from the reports to the actual wreckage in front of him. If possible it looked even worse in person, and damn does that make him feel bad for making out with Lindsey instead of working on All Your Base Are Belong to Us.

"Incoming communications from Captain America."

"Iron Man, we need you in the air a few blocks over. Most of the Doombots have concentrated above the Senate Office Building."

"Aye aye, Cap'n." Repulsors charging, Tony swooped towards the aforementioned hot spot, eyes flickering rapidly in search of an unlucky bot to blast out of the sky.

"Targets entering range to your right, sir." Palm raised, a bright burst of energy smote down the closest machine before it could even turn around. He managed to pick off one more before the others got their act together and starting baring down at his position, metal masks gleaming menacingly. "There is a total of four Doombots in your immediate area, and two more are approaching." Another blast for the imitation that was trying to get behind him.

"What's the tota- Woah!" A quick barrel roll removed Iron Man from the path of an energy blast. He twisted slightly to keep track of two bots that were once again trying to circle around him, but he had to dodge again as the clone in front of him took the opening. "Total?"

"There were thirteen originally, sir. Six have been destroyed so far by either yourself or Captain America."

"So more than half left. Well then, time to get busy. Jarvis, let's take this to the sky." Jets revving back up power, Tony shot upwards to escape the three blasts that convened on his original location. Predictably the bots followed his ascent, giving him a chance to knock another one off before they could return fire. Two red circles blinked on in the bottom corner of his screen. "I guess we got a party on our hands."

Five metal combatants chased each other around the sky, one red and gold and the others silver and green. They ducked and dived around missiles and arching streaks of electricity, completely focused on the dance. One of the Doombots misstepped, and not a second was wasted before it was sent smoking into the cement below. Adjusting to their enemy, the other three tightened their formations and made it harder to exploit any mistakes. They pressed in tighter, using their numbers to sneak into his weaker spots. After a few more volleys and a hit to the back- which sent him flying forward and he only narrowly missed getting fried as he tried to right himself- it became clear to Tony that he was no longer the ringleader of this show.

"Yo, Captain. How are you doing on your end? Because my friends over here are getting a bit edgy." And by 'edgy' he meant 'completely homicidal'.

"We're clear down here. Just finished off the last hostile and non-combatants have left the area. Lure them down and we can finish this." At least he's reliable, if not a bit - a lot - of a spoilsport.

Not wanting to waste anymore time and encourage something else to go wrong, Tony took the first opportunity he could to tuck down in low, weaving out of the way of his aggressive entourage. He almost managed to reach where Steve Rogers was before one of the Doombots slipped his guard. The superhero didn't even have time to say 'fuck' before the robot unleashed a full charge right next to him, topped thoughtfully with self-detonation. Like a whirlwind composed of metal and limbs, Iron Man collided into a nearby office building. It took three unfortunate walls to bring him to a stop, the last of which depositing a chunk of plaster onto his chest in retaliation.

"Iron Man, you okay?" Roger's voice fizzled over his speakers. "The last Doombot is being dispatched as we speak." Well at least he doesn't need to worry about getting electrocuted while he's busy trying to figure out how to work his legs again.

"Oh, yeah, I'm just peachy. I love getting thrown through a building. Wouldn't be a good fight if I didn't suffer from internal bleeding while I was at it." Ah, that's it. Left leg operational? Check. Right leg? ...Working on it.

"If you have enough energy to make bad jokes you can't be hurt that bad. We don't need you for clean up, so you are free to go." He'd have left even if SHIELD still needed him. He'd dealt with enough crap today. All he wanted to do was go home, get a nice bottle or two of some overpriced scotch, and maybe take a quick stroll in his sleek Saleen S7. No stress, just a nice evening to himself.

Picking his way free of the rubble, Tony groaned as dented bits of armor aggravated his already forming bruises. Gait stiff, he followed the furrows he made in the floor back to his point of entry (the movies lied. It didn't look like a Iron Man shaped hole). "Jarvis, take us back. Keep the suit as level as possible, and no turbulence, please."

"Yes, sir." The thrusters activated slowly, and Tony was forever grateful to his competent AI. His flight back was uneventful; he didn't even nearly give a bird a heart attack this time. It wasn't until he was in sight of his house that it happened.

"It appears something is falling from the sky in the direction of the house, sir." A small black dot appeared on the HUD, descending quickly towards Tony's beautiful Malibu estate. "Projectory patterns indicate collision in the general vicinity of the garage." Garage... His sports cars!

"What? No!" Ignoring the ache it caused, Tony increased the flight power even though he knew he'd not make it in time to stop whatever was falling towards his unsuspecting cars. Speaking of which... "What the hell is it? A Doombot? Missile? Meteor? Hawk with a grudge? Come on Jarv, give me something here." Tony strained his eyes even as Jarvis digitally enlarged and enhanced the feed. Whatever the genius was expecting however was not what showed up on his screen.

"Is that... oh, Jesus Christ. _Fuck_." If he wasn't going fast before, he certainly was now, and this time not out of concern for his expensive vehicles.

"Sir, you won't make it in time."

"Shut up, Jarvis! Put more power in the thrusters!" The suit shuddered as it increased speed again, but the AI was right. Whoever was falling from the sky would hit long before Iron Man reached him- and that's what it was. A person. A fucking _person_ was falling towards his house at impossibly high speeds, and Tony would only make it there in time to scrape the bloody mess out of his garage. With one last desperate boost, Tony shot down towards his house. But all he managed to do was get a clear view of the man, now confirmed both by the screen image and Tony's own eyes, crashing through the roof of his garage and into the dark depths below.

Behind the mask, Iron Man screamed.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Drunk on ego,  
Truly thought I could make it right,  
If I kissed you one more time to,  
Help you face the nightmare,  
But you're far too poisoned for me.  
Such a fool to think that I can wake you from your slumber,  
That I could actually heal you:_

_Sleeping Beauty,_  
_Poisoned and hopeless,_  
_You're far beyond a visible sign of your awakening,_  
_Failing miserably to find a way to comfort you."_

-o-o-o-

"Oh my God! Oh _fuck!_ Damn it... Oh my God."

Like a mantra, he kept repeating those words as if saying them would take back time, would undo the last few minutes, would let him be fast enough this time.

But no matter how many times he swore or blasphemed, time remained resolute. The gaping hole in his roof stayed and with it so did the guilt.

What kind of hero was he, letting someone fall to their death before his very eyes? He was right there, and he did _nothing_.

(He had tried, he really did.)

When he realized it was a person falling to their death, an actual living person- though they certainly weren't anymore, and he ripped off his faceplate as the thought churned his stomach until he felt like he was on the verge of vomiting -he would have done anything to save them. There just wasn't anything he _could_ do. All of his science- his work on making the suit perfect so he could actually help people -had been useless. _He_ had been useless.

It took Tony a few minutes for to gather the nerves necessary to lower himself down through the new hole in his ceiling. Part of him, still high on adrenaline and poisonous hope, urged him to move immediately, but he resisted; there wasn't a need for haste, not anymore. Whoever that was, they were dead before they even broke through the ceiling.

(At least they died quickly.)

However, he had to face his failure eventually. It was his house they slammed into. He couldn't just ignore, leave it and act like it never happened. That may work for other things, but not this. It was his fault, whether the blame was logical or not, and he would do what he could to make things right. The least he could do though was find out who it was, apologize to their family. Offer them anything he could to ease the repercussions of his mess up.

(Why the hell someone had been free falling above Malibu in the first place?)

But that came later. Right now, there was a body- gore puddle, more like- sitting in his garage, and he couldn't just ignore it any longer. He didn't want to leave it for Pepper or Rhodes to stumble upon. It was his responsibility, whether he liked it or not.

So slowly, haltingly, he directed himself over the gaping maw that was his roof- noting, with a bit of gallows humor, that it was right next to where he had fallen through when he first landed with the suit- and lowered himself down into the darkness.

Without his helmet, there was nothing filtering out the thick, metallic reek of blood or the stench of gasoline. It hung heavy in his lungs, clogging his nose and reminding him horribly of another day that was filled with death and fire. Gagging on the smell and hanging on the verge of memory, he almost lost his nerve. He moved to turn back on his thrusters- he just couldn't do this right, not alone. He needed someone else there with him, someone who could selfishly tell him it wasn't his fault; it was an accident. Someone to tell him that the blood painting his garage was not also painting his ledger, already soaked through with his mistakes - when a loud, choking rasp caught his attention.

(Was that...?)

Eyes widening in realization, Tony barked out a command for the lights to be turned on while killing the jets. With the room now bathed in light, he landed a few feet away from where the impact occurred- confused, bewildered, and hopeful. "Oh my God..."

There, lying on the crushed hood of his Saleen S7 and showered with blood and glass, was a man that, against all reason, happened to be very much alive. Unconscious and looking like he just escaped from Hell, but alive.

Brain going lightning fast, Tony tried to sort through the scene before him. He took in the appearance of the man before him, who was clothed in tattered leathers that hung off of his emaciated figure. Long, matted black hair clung to his pale, blood drenched face. His skin- Tony didn't even know skin could be that shade of white except for in cheap vampire films -clung tightly to bone: a morbid display of a lack of fat or muscle.

It was like a Holocaust survivor photo, ruined only by the smashed sports car, renaissance fair get-up, and the glass. No photo Tony saw had the people impaled with chunks of glass that were a foot long.

(How the hell was he still alive?)

When a loud, chest rattling cough broke the rhythm of desperate inhalations, Tony finally jumped into action. He lunged forwards, quickly and methodically grabbing hold of the all the glass shards he could find and pulling them out of paper-like flesh. He could only hope that none of the shrapnel had managed to get somewhere where it'd be fatal; his own chest twinged in remembrance beneath the arc reactor. It didn't look like any had, but Tony only had the knowledge of his own experience to guide him. All he knew to do was remove the jagged edges before they could cause further damage; the bloody pieces collected in a pile on the floor, joined shortly by serrated sheets of drenched metal.

It wasn't until he was nearly done disentangling the man from the wrecked mass of orange car that he noticed it. At first he thought it was just a trick of the light, but when a closer looked revealed the same thing he paused. The skin that just moments ago sported a vicious gash was now nearly flawless, only a slight scar and sea of red belaying the wound that had just been there. Curiosity now thoroughly peaked, Tony removed one of the last shards and watched in fascination as the blood started clotting within seconds, and in less than a minute a new layer of skin had formed.

"Jarvis, are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"Yes, sir. It appears he is healing at extremely accelerated rates. Were I to make a deduction, I'd say such an ability would most likely account for him surviving the fall through the roof."

(He had lived, but only through measures of his own. Tony had still failed him.)

"So do you think he's an enhanced soldier, or maybe a mutant? I'm going to go for the obvious here and say he isn't a normal human."

The scientific parts of Tony's mind- which was most of it- started churning at this new detail, thinking of anywhere he's heard of healing powers that matched this caliber. One of the X-Men possessed similar abilities, if he wasn't mistaken, but that seemed to be it. Even Captain America was unable to heal that quickly or cleanly. It'd have taken him a few days for them to scar over. But just as he was about to write off the healing as a mutant power, Tony remembered something he had read about in the SHIELD database a few years ago. It was irrelevant at the time, but now the information pulled itself to the forefront of his mind.

A few aliens, calling themselves Asgardians, had shown up in a small New Mexico town. They too were clad in leather and equipped with super healing. It was unknown how many of them there were, or where exactly Asgard was, but the ones who did show up came from the sky... which would account for why the man fell from nowhere.

"Jarvis, see what information SHIELD has on 'Asgard'. Check other superhuman research as well, but I think leather-clad aliens is the best bet for what we have here."

"I have already started, sir. And should I contact Director Fury as well?"

Tony was about to retort 'no', simply on the principle that he didn't like SHIELD getting into his business, but then he reconsider. While the man's flesh wounds disappeared, he was still freakishly thin and that hideous wheezing he made with every breath also wasn't going away. SHIELD would be better fit to deal with the well-being of an abnormal entity, and if there was a chance he came from a race of warrior gods, they'd not dare experiment on him for fear of intergalactic retaliation. But... he had told himself he'd take responsibility for what happened, and while he made that promise thinking he'd be dealing with a grieving family and not sheltering an alien, it was made nonetheless.

(He had made a mistake, but he could fix it. He had to make things right or he'd never forgive himself.)

"No...no, don't contact him. I'll take care of it. Just... I'll need some medical supplies or something. Figure out what I need and get it shipped to the house as soon as possible. If they say they don't do express shipping, tell them I don't care and I'll pay extra for it."

Decision made, Tony checked to make sure nothing else was stabbing into his new charge before lifting him into his armored arms, mindful of where the metal was uncomfortably warped. Even so, the man's awkward, bony limbs hit painfully against the suit, and Tony couldn't help but be disgusted by the sharp contours of the man's sickly body. He looked like a skeleton that someone didn't get the memo to bury and instead though it'd be amusing to dress up like a comic book character. Tony hoped the man recovered his muscle mass with the same healing efficiency he revealed earlier, because while he wasn't an expert in physical therapy, he knew it took ages to come back even partly from complete degradation. Fat, too. Screw obesity, the man needed to eat like Tony drank.

Infinitely glad that Pepper wasn't going to be around like she normally was after a mission due to a problem with the company, Tony freely made his way through the labs and up the winding steps. Had she been around to see him cradling Jack Skellington while covered in blood as the remnants of his battle with the Doombots, she'd have freaked. Not that her concern wasn't nice sometimes (emphasis on the sometimes), but it had been a long day. The sooner he got the man situated in one of the guest bedrooms and got himself to a cooler, the better.

It wasn't until Tony dumped the man on the bed (those sheets are definitely getting thrown away tomorrow. There's no way he's going to be able to get the blood out of the light fabric) that he fully realized he had no clue what he was doing. Sure, put the alien in a room and try to give him amateur medical care, but then what? The guy was wasted. For all Tony knew, he wouldn't recover swiftly. Did he really want to be the caretaker of some stranger? Would the person even accept Tony's help after he woke up? And there was no way the guy didn't have some sort of mental problem after going through...whatever it was that made him look like he does. It wasn't like he could just hand him off later if thinks weren't going as well as he liked...well, he could, but he's trying to not be a total self-centered dick here.

There was also the simple fact that the man was a stranger, and for all Tony knew was a homicidal maniac. True, he probably wouldn't be much of a threat at the moment, but did he really want someone he didn't know loose in the house? With Pepper around? And Pepper, he couldn't hide his newest stint from her forever. What would she think?

But looking at the man's face, scrunched in pain as he struggled to breathe, he remembered when he must have looked like that too.

"_What the hell did you do to me?_"

"_What I did was save your life._"

Yinsen had saved him, both at that moment and when he sacrificed his life for Tony to get away. He had been to one who helped Tony when he had lost - "_So you are a man who has everything, but nothing._" -and forced him to finally open his eyes - "_Is this what you want? Is this what you wish the legacy of the great Tony Stark to be?_".

A Merchant of Death was never what he wanted to be. Back then, he had been selfish, conceited, and shallow. He offered help to no one, cared about no one. Even his close friends, he didn't truly appreciate them because he thought himself better. Tony had been nothing more than a naïve child with a genius mind.

Then Afghanistan changed all of that; Yinsen changed all of that. "_He sees the darkness in the world, and in his own heart, and is forever changed._" Yinsen had saved him because he thought Tony would become something more. He only had one request, and Tony intended to honor it.

"_Don't waste it... Don't waste your life, Stark._"

So regardless of all the 'what ifs', helping this man -bloody and wrecked- was the right thing to do. When he explains it to Pepper, he thinks she'd understand, too. If there were problems, he'd handle them as they came. No point in giving up before he even started.

With that, Tony set about cleaning the man off. It took him a good twenty minutes just to figure out how to undo all of the leather buckles and straps, and then began the awkward part of removing the simple linens underneath. He had intended to leave the guy with his undergarments, but, after seeing how old and baggy they were on his bony hips, chose to ignore how weird it was and just changed all of his clothes out for something cleaner and more fitting. Were the guy a normal weight, Tony's clothes would be way too small, but as it was they fit him alright. He put his guest into the fresh clothes after giving him a quick wipe down with a wet towel... and then another few wipe downs, because damn the guy was filthy.

Eventually the guy was as clean as he was going to be without bringing in a pair of shears and some industrial grade soap, so Tony left him under the covers while he went in search of some booze. Taking advantage of the slight reprieve, he lounged in one of the chairs by the bar, gulping down generous amounts of the alcoholic beverage.

It wasn't until twenty minutes later, after his adrenaline rush had finally faded out, that he noticed he still had not taken off the armor, and it was pressing on his wounds quite painfully. Loathe to move but wanting even less to remain in the battered suit, he retreated back down to the lab. Dum-E greeted him from across the room, where he was scrubbing up one of many spots of blood, and Tony made a note to clean the mess off the stairs before Pepper stopped by.

"Alright Jarvis, get me out of this thing. And do be gentle this time. I'm not really in the mood for having it rough."

Robotic arms reached out from the ceiling to release Tony as Jarvis replied, "Certainly, sir. I also would like to report that the supplies you have ordered is on its way. It should arrive in less than half an hour."

"Great. Oh it feels good to be out of that thing." Tony rubbed his sore chest and, with a quick goodbye to Dum-E, shambled back up to where some liquid magic was waiting for him. "What did you find out from SHIELD? Do you think our little guest is from Asgard?"

"The similarities in clothing and ability certainly suggest that. No other group matched quite as well."

"Pull the files up. I want to see." Tony tapped the coffee table and the glass surface sprang to life with photos of tall warriors, decked in needlessly complex armor, as well as written reports compiled from everything SHIELD could get their hands on. It wasn't much, but after just a few photos he was pretty sure the man lying a room over was from Asgard. Unless gaudy armor (that people actually risked their lives while wearing) was a new trend, he was looking in the right place.

And look, there is the suit they thought was his. Now he remembered why he read this random report in the first place. He'd been worried someone stole his tech, but when it turned out the Destroyer was actually an ancient alien construct, he stopped being concerned about it; though he did feel a bit cheated that there had been an 'iron man' long before he designed his own.

Tony continued reading the sparse notes he could find that were not just conjecture until the door bell rang. He had wanted to learn as much as he could about Asgard, but the only two names mentioned were 'Thor' and 'Loki', and anything more specific than that was based heavily on inference. He abandoned his futile pursuit and forced himself to get off the couch despite how every muscle protested.

"About time they got here." He wasn't too concerned about his guest dying anytime in the next few hours since he proved to be quite durable, but if Tony listened closely he could still here the man rasping from the adjoining room. That just couldn't be healthy long-term, alien or not.

Limping almost imperceptibly, he made his way to the front door. The delivery man was fidgeting on the other side of the glass wall, and Tony was mildly amused at the incredulous looks the young man on the other side was giving his house. It reminded Tony of the times he had ordered real cheap take out just to see the delivery man panic as he thought he had to wrong address (and he did enjoy eating the cheap take out as well).

But amusing as it was toying with the people who came to his house, he was in a bit of a hurry this evening so he just opened the door and wasted no time asking, "I already paid, right? Just unload everything and I can bring it in myself."

The man look startled, brows furrowed and eyes wide. "Um, sir, you did pay but... I think you may want to double check the amount." He offered up the clip board he had been holding to his chest, eyes darting once more to the sum at the bottom of the receipt. Tony bet... Frank, according to his name tag, had never seen a sum that large. To a billionaire, however, such things were inconsequential.

He backed away slightly from the offered item, instead replying,"Does it have less than six digits?" A hesitant nod was given in return. "Then it's good. Now come on, start unpacking. You weren't paid to stand around."

"Technically sir, I'm not paid to deliver either. I work as a receptionist at the hospital. I just got roped into this job since no one else wanted to do it." But he still went around to the truck he had parked at the end of the drive and began to pull large boxes out of the car. There were seven in total, making Tony wonder what exactly his AI had seen fit to buy. Chances are the engineer wouldn't be able to name even half the stuff, let alone use it. Oh well, there's always time to learn.

After giving Frank a generous tip and the order to be sure to show it to all of his receptionist friends (who couldn't be bothered to make the trip themselves), Tony dragged the boxes into his living room.

"Jesus, Jarv, what did you buy? An entire ICU room?" Not wanting to waste anymore time, Tony started tearing off the tape and pulling out the boxes' foreign contents.

"Of course not, sir. I bought an IV system, oxygen mask, nasogastric feeding tube, catheter, and a variety of physical therapy equipment." Well there was certainly a lot of clear plastic tubes and bags full of random solutions, as well as what looked like exercise equipment.

"That's nice, but I don't actually know what I'm supposed to do with any of that."

So Tony spent the next hour getting coached in basic nursing by his computer- or at least the videos that his computer pulled up- and eventually got his cadaverous guest hooked up to an oxygen tank, IV line, and feeding tube. Though the urinary catheter got a big veto, because no matter what the lady on the screen tried to tell him, there was no way he was going to violate some alien. His guest could wait to take a piss when he woke up.

Luckily the man did have close enough anatomy to a human for the feeding tube to work, though it did take two tries on the intravenous line because the first needle broke before Tony could get it under the alien's skin. Whatever the difference between humans and Asgardians was, it clearly originated in their very biological structure. Hell, the alien even weighed more than Tony despite how feeble he looked, and the superhero had amassed no small amount of muscle from fighting megalomaniac nutcases all the time.

It was nearing nine o'clock by the time Tony managed to get everything set up and worked out, and after he was done he ended up dragging himself to his bedroom instead of back down to the lab. He'd probably go down in a few hours anyway after sleep eluded him, but for now he just needed to take a breather and let his muscles relax. Chances are he'd look like an abuse victim by tomorrow morning when his body really started feeling its impromptu trip through a couple of walls. He just hoped the next few days weren't quite as hectic, because he couldn't take that much more mayhem.

To Tony's great relief, the following three days did go by relatively normal. Taking care of his guest was easy now that everything was set up, and Jarvis would alert him to any changes. Despite being interested in the man's well-being, there wasn't much Tony could do for him while he slept, not to mention he had stuff to do.

So he instead spent his time flipping through the scans Jarvis had taken on the last prototype of AYBABTU, trying to figure out what went wrong. Everything seemed right. The goal was to make a small attachment that could emit a frequency able to disengage the self-destruct protocol on Doombots, allowing them to capture one and dissect its programming.

Despite Victor von Doom's inability to refer to himself in first person, his robots were nearly flawless in their design. Very few EMP fields were able to shut them down, and those that did couldn't undo the detonation sequence. By compiling the frequencies and fluctuations of the types of fields that did work, Tony pinpointed what should be the wavelength the self destruct worked on. Which was all fine in theory, but, as he discovered in his previous four models, the machines kept shorting themselves out.

In turn, he couldn't find a design that could both be attached to a Doombot and keep from getting damaged by its own effect. That's where his fifth and sixth prototype came in. One would be designed simply to emit a small electromagnetic pulse in the shape that was simplest, and one would be the design of the carrier that would get the EMP close enough to a Doombot to work. If everything worked right, he could then set to adjusting both designs to work with one another and not ruin their purpose.

He had been in the middle of carefully welding some wires onto a tiny circuit board when Jarvis spoke up. "Sir, your guest is in the garage."

Guest? Mind still absorbed in his work, Tony's mind jumped to the most obvious conclusion: Rhodey.

...Though he hadn't expected Rhodes to come over anytime soon. Last he checked, his best friend was still overseeing a weapons utilization convention in Washington. Maybe something came up? Whatever it was, Tony wasn't just going to stop working. He was in the zone right now."Tell him I'm in the middle of something. He can wait for me in the kitchen. Or better yet, come back a different day."

"Sir, I believe you misunderstood. I was referring to the guest that fell through your roof three days ago." It took a moment for Tony to sort out what was wrong with that statement.

Turning off the welding torch and setting his work down, Tony tentatively clarified, "So Marvin, not Rhodey or anyone else, is in the garage? Like, the garage with the cars garage? That one over there?" He pointed towards the door that connected his lab to his underground parking lot. "Because I didn't see anyone walk through here." Not that his guest was in any condition to walk anywhere, either.

"Of course not, sir. It appears he teleported from his room."

Right, he teleported. Obviously.

...The _fuck_?

Tony shoved off from his work table and sprinted towards the garage. "Jarvis, you better be kidding me!" But sure enough there was pale, lanky body lying on the ground where Tony's orange sports car use to be.

The scene was too reminiscent of Monday for Tony and he picked up the pace for the last stretch, skidding to a halt just before the limp body. Kneeling quickly, he grabbed the man's knobby shoulders- Tony didn't think he'd ever get use to just how wrong the man's starved body felt- and flipped him over onto his back. Wide, glassy eyes stared up at him- no, not at him. The dull green eyes were unfocused, failing to react even as a hand slowly waved before them.

"Hey, um, anyone home in there? Hello? You're kind of creeping me out. I'd appreciate if you stopped staring through me; you're making me feel like I just turned invisible or something. Helloooo?" Still nothing. Tony reached over and roughly shook the man's shoulder. Nope. A brisk slap to the face. Not even a blink.

Disturbed, Tony finally let go from where his finger's were digging into the catatonic's arm and leaned back. He had heard of people entering stupors as a result of severe depression and post-traumatic stress, but he'd never actually seen it before. The guy was like a doll.

Which brought Tony back to the ever present question of what exactly had happened to make such a powerful being weak and, apparently, insensible. He could all too vividly recall his own stint in Afghanistan- as his constant nightmares and occasional flashbacks were proof of- and he looked nothing like this when he finally arose from that miserable cave.

However, he also had Yinsen, who was the rock that kept Tony tethered in those three months. Did this guy ever have someone to keep him sane? Someone to look at for reassurance that he wasn't alone in Hell?

Then Tony surprised himself when a little voice in his mind spoke up, strong and resolute. It rung clearly, saying, "That doesn't matter anymore because he has me now. I'll keep the demons at bay."

_Tony_ would be Yinsen this time.

After one last failed attempt to reach the man, Tony gave up and lifted him off the floor, grunting under the weight. "You know, it'd be easier if you just teleported yourself to the kitchen now. Just saying. You are really heavy. And Jarvis, I need to see that footage."

Pictures and frame-by-frame videos popped onto the walls as Tony entered, dumping the dead weight off on the nearest chair. He flicked through the offered clips until he got to the one that showed the exact moment he wanted. It showed the man lying still in his bed, looking no different from how Tony left him earlier in the afternoon. Then suddenly, green eyes shot open. The man jolted, limbs twitching and pulling even though they lacked the strength to support anything. His face twisted into a grimace, pain clear in every bit of his expression. Under the oxygen mask, he gasped and wheezed.

Tony watched, both horrified and fascinated, as bright green light suddenly shone from the man's pale skin, starting at trembling fingertips and washing over the entire body. Then the man vanished, leaving behind nothing but an empty bed and swaying IV rack.

A quick flick closed to video and brought up the surveillance of the garage. Everything was normal for a few seconds until a vibrant green shimmer exploded to life in the empty car slot. The man suddenly appeared out of thin air, standing on his feet for only a moment before shaking muscles sent him toppling to the floor. Tony could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the desperate scrambling, and he switched camera angles for a better look at the face. The image was distorted by the tentative angle and shadows, but the expression of fear was clear. And then with that angle, Tony could easily see the moment in which all expression randomly collapsed, leaving nothing behind but the blank stare he had come across just a minute later.

The fact that the sickly man suffered from catatonia wasn't unexpected, but it was a shock to see the eerie calm consume everything. It also made the situation a lot more complicated, as Tony had been expecting to work with his guest towards recovery. Now the billionaire playboy may be stuck nursing a traumatized alien back to health and then playing shrink to top it all off. But even though the man- slumped over in his chair and slowly listing to the side- was empty at the moment, Tony had seen that spark of life. The man, not knowing where he was and too weak to move, had still tried to get away. He still made an effort: still retained the desire to fight. That spark was what Tony wanted to turn into an inferno. A gust of wind was all it took to make an ash a forest fire, as his captor's had learned the hard way.

"I guess you aren't going to be interested in eating something, are you?" He shut off the screens and turned his attention to the fridge, throwing a quick look over his shoulder to confirm that there was no response. "Damn, and here I thought I'd be able to stop shoving a tube down your nose."

Whatever was in the solution Jarvis bought was helping, but actual food was far more satisfying. Either way, he could see some of the definition returning to the man's figure, miniscule though it was- confirming that Asgardians recovered just a quickly from degenerative states as they did wounds, making recuperation take only a fraction of the time it'd be for a human.

Tony ended up making two smoothies anyway, setting one up in front of his despondent friend. Then he tilted his head slightly as he watched the other man start to slide faster in the chair. Just before the poor guy went over completely Tony intervened and set him upright, putting the smoothie in between pallid hands just for kicks.

That day began one of many similar days, with Tony's guest mindlessly teleporting himself places- normally the garage, though he did go to the kitchen a few times and once went straight to the lab- and Tony fetching him back from wherever he went. The oxygen mask was finally taken off duty, as the man had eventually stopped sounding like he was on the verge of coughing out his lungs with every breath and instead only wheezed occasionally. Eventually the IV was also gotten rid of, as every time his patient warped the needle came out and it was getting harder and harder to get one back in without breaking it. Sadly, the feeding tubes got continual use, but they were making an obvious improvement in a short amount of time. Tony also started trying some basic physical therapy to prompt the muscles to form again, and that followed the same exponential trend as regaining weight. He also finally got his charge a proper bath and spent a solid thirty minutes wrestling with the man's ridiculously long hair.

Not that Tony spent all of his time with his new commitment. He went out partying a few times to take the edge off and make him feel a bit less like some goody-two-shoe nun. And he may or may not have dressed his guest up in a dress Pepper had left at the house while he was super drunk after one of said parties. Bringing home girls however proved to be somewhat of a problem, which Tony didn't even realize until he had slipped away from his sleeping partner only to find the gaunt male curled up right outside his door. He had to keep a close eye on his not-blonde guest for the rest of the morning until Jarvis had assured him that the girl had left and wasn't as risk for coming across Tony's personal dungeon wraith.

The most interesting day, however, had been the one where Tony had entered the kitchen only to find a horse relaxing in the middle of the room. He had backed out of the room, wearily dragged a hand across his face, and then cautiously walked back it. Mammal still present, he tried to think of where he may have drunkenly obtained a horse until he realized that not only was the equine's fur was a familiar shade, but it was abnormally thin. Jarvis took pity on the confused engineer- he was a man of science, damn it! He didn't understand any of this magic crap!- and informed him that his guest had transformed himself a bit under two hours ago.

Which was nice to know and all, but it didn't really give him any idea about what he was suppose to do with the mare- and if that didn't make the situation any weirder, the horse was indeed female- or when his guest intended to change himself back to his humanoid form. Because even with his suit, Tony didn't think he could safely carry a full grown horse through his house... nor did he know how the tube feed one, for that matter.

"Come on, Animorphs. Transform back now. Or at the very least, stop making my kitchen smell like a barn." He stretched his arm out and nudged the mare's broad shoulder insistently. "Seriously, this isn't cool. What if Pepper showed up?" The horse remained completely ignorant to Tony's whining, his (her?) eyes staring blankly ahead. That part at least didn't change. "Alright then, we'll do this the hard way. I am not letting you sit here and get fleas all over where I eat."

He had read when looking up mental illnesses that, depending on the cause, you could get people in stupors to follow your lead. Through his time taking care of his guest, Tony had seen some slight response from muscle memory when he shifted the man, and now with actual muscle the guy often would try to and catch himself before falling. Hopefully that would in turn translate to him walking automatically when forced to get up.

If not... no, not an option. The horse was getting out of his kitchen.

It took a good ten minutes, during which Tony probably pulled at least three muscles, but he eventually was able to get the mare on wobbly black legs. He stood by the horse's shoulder, one arm under her heaving chest and the other on the back of her elbow. They went slow, Tony having to encourage each step and atrophied muscles struggling to comply. But somehow the two reached the guest room and the door was just wide enough for them to squeeze inside. Then the mare's legs finally gave out and she slumped heavily to the ground, limbs twitching with overuse.

That surreal event had taught Tony two things (other than the fact that his guest could change his gender and species). One being that he now _really_ wanted to study how magic worked, and the other being that with enough effort he could get the man to walk and exercise under his own power. The later proved very helpful in trying to get the man to regain muscle strength, and Tony began regularly encouraging him to move across small distances.

Then Tony got a little visit from this thing everyone liked the call 'reality' in the form of a certain red-headed business woman. He had been in the middle of organizing a new shipment of supplies for his guest when she wandered into the kitchen, talking on the phone while looking at some paperwork. She had been prepared to ignore Tony until she had finished her call- which he would have been glad of, since he hadn't been expecting her and tried to hide what he was doing the moment she came in the room- but after realizing what it was Tony was fiddling with, her eyes narrowed and she politely interrupted the person she was talking to, telling them that she had to deal with something real fast.

Then she pointedly pulled the phone away from her ear and gave Tony 'the look'. You know, the one that said 'you most likely did something stupid and didn't tell me'? Yeah, that one.

So Tony braced himself and was about to explain that it wasn't his fault, really, he was just trying to fulfill his duties as a responsible human being, when Pepper hissed, "Anthony Edward Stark, if you are dying again and refrained from telling me, so help me God I will walk out of here right now and you will never see me again."

...Oh. Well, not quite what he had been expecting... though probably not better. "It's um... not what it looks like." And his eloquence never fails to astound him.

"Not what? So you were going to tell me? Or are you just going to make excuses like last time?" He cringed a bit at that, and damn was Pep scary when she was angry... and worried.

"What I mean is that this isn't for me." Tony cut in, and Pepper put a hand on her hip while the other gestured for him to continue. "I um... may have taken in an alien who fell through my ceiling the other day? Oh, but don't worry; he looks human when he isn't turning into a horse. No antennae or blue skin or anything."

He looked at Pepper imploringly, but her expression remained stony. Sad was the fact that mentions of him harboring aliens didn't even get a raised eyebrow anymore. "Go on."

A hand sheepishly wandered into greasy brown hair. "And he may be suffering from severe starvation and is about as responsive as a rock most of the time. So I thought I'd do the mature thing and help him out."

The 'like Yinsen did for me' remained unsaid, because even now Tony couldn't bring himself to open up about just what happened in Afghanistan. But from the way Pepper's gaze softened, he knew she understood. She, more than anyone, saw the differences those three months had made in him, even when he didn't always see them himself. Helping strangers was one of those differences.

"Tony, you can't do things like that. What if he's dangerous?" She set her clipboard down on the nearby counter and put a manicured hand on his shoulder. "Look, Tony, I know you want to help people who've been through what you have, but you can't just keep people you don't know in your house."

"Pep, he couldn't be dangerous if he tried." A lie, but she didn't know that. "Come on, I'll show you. Jarv, where is our spontaneous friend at the moment?"

British voice informing him that his guest was in the garage at the moment, Tony grabbed the hand that was resting on his arm and pulled Pepper forward. The pair traveled down the stairs, but then Tony halted his friend before they came into view of the garage. He turned towards her, serious.

"I know he looks bad, but trust me when I say he looks ten times better than he did when he first came here." With that they turned the corner, and it only took a moment for Pepper's eyes to find her target.

She gasped, hand flying to cover her mouth. "Oh my God..." Then she ran forwards, heels clacking loudly in the otherwise quiet space. Tony followed at a more sedated pace, already all too familiar with the sight that had been waiting for them.

He hadn't been lying when he said that the man looked a lot better. No longer did he look like a skeleton with some skin tacked on. Instead he gave the impression of someone who had been wasted away by serious illness for years and was only now on the mend: haggard but bearing some definition. Though he still looked like he was going to keel over any second (and he probably was. The man could now keep on his feet for a little bit, but he always reached his limit far too quickly) while his skin was colorless and waxy.

When Tony came up alongside her, Pepper had both of her hand's on the catatonic man's face, fingers brushing against hollow cheeks while she looked into unresponsive green eyes. "I can't imagine what he must have been through," she murmured. Neither could Tony, and that's what made it even worse.

He stood next to Pep for a few more minutes while she sadly observed his guest until he noticed the man's legs were quivering in a way that meant he was going to drop soon. In a move that conveyed how often he's done it, Tony grabbed under the man's shoulders while nudging the back of the back of the weakening knee with his toe. Obligingly the man sunk to the floor with Tony's support, slouching wearily on his knees. Pepper watched this all quietly, stepping back slightly to allow them some space. Only when Tony straightened back up again did she speak.

"Tony, while you seem to be doing a surprisingly good job with him," she started calmly, "I think you are in over your head. He needs help, real help. You're not cut out for this. You're a billionaire playboy, not a nurse or a psychiatrist." Said billionaire playboy made to mention that he was also a genius philanthropist, but Pepper cut him off. "No, Tony, I know what you're going to say, but this just isn't a good match. What are you going to do when you get bored like you always do? What then? He's a person, not a machine. You can't just lock him away somewhere when you decided you'd rather go out and party."

He understood that, he really did, but this was different. This was personal.

"But I _can_ help him, Pep. I know what it's like to feel like your mind isn't your own anymore. I can provide him with something to focus on, so the whole world doesn't feel like it's slipping away. And if you did send him off to some crazy house, how are you going to explain it to them when he starts teleporting away, or when they come in to check up on him and find a horse instead? Jarvis can keep an eye on him, and I'm more prepared to handle unexpected bouts of magic than some doctor." Tony knew it sounded like he was begging, and maybe he was, but he had to make her understand. He could do this. He had to do this. _This_, what he was doing here, was what Yinsen had wanted; what he died for.

(He had steadfastly been ignoring that little traitorous part of him that said, "But does it count being 'Yinsen' when the man is nothing more than a puppet?")

"Pepper, you are always telling me to think about others, and I am. I thought he was dead when he fell through my roof. For those few minutes, I suffered believing I had failed to save someone who was right in front of me, needing my help. Well turns out he wasn't dead, but he still needs help- help that I can give. I can do this."

They both stared at each other, one trying to express his sincerity and the other starting to realize the gravity of the decision that had been made in this very room just two weeks before. Finally Pepper sighed, conceding. "Tony, sometimes I wish I didn't understand what goes on inside that head of yours. Fine, but if this starts getting out of your control, at least tell me so I can help. I'll stop by when I can."

And she knew she was doing the right thing when Tony gave her a rare smile, one that actually reached his eyes, before going back over to his charge and spoke softly in the man's ear- "Come on, bud. You don't really want to sit on the floor all day."- while urging him back onto his coltish legs. She watched as the two men slowly made their way through the room, and she was struck with the strangest notion that those two fit each other, like two torn puzzle pieces that had never quite fit in with anyone else. Never before had she seen the man so enraptured with something that wasn't born of gears and microchips. Yet in was just so _Tony_ that he was drawn in by someone broken just like he was.

Pepper left not too quickly after, wanting to stay but having to attend an important budget meeting. The next three weeks passed by quickly, filled with some partying, a perfected prototype of All Your Base Are Belong to Us, and occasional visits from Pep. She had just left from one of said visits- "Tony, he's still catatonic and it's been over a month. Don't you think it's time to try something different?"- when something happened to completely rekindle Tony's waning hope.

He had been working in the lab on a new suit- Mark Thirty-five -when out of the corner of his eye he saw someone walking in the garage. Thinking it was Pepper, he had turned back to his work, but then a flash of green caught his eye. He looked up, realized who it was, and set off running, hope budding in his chest.

However, when he caught up to the listlessly wandering man, he was disappointed to note the continued blank stare. Still, his good mood wasn't crushed completely. This was progress, proof that they were getting somewhere with all the effort he was putting in. Tony steered the man away from where he was heading towards the exit of the garage – he'll have to make sure Jarvis keeps the exits closed to his guest. No reason to save the poor guy just to let him wander into the street and get run over -and was filled with relief that finally they were really moving forwards.

Turns out that the whole walking thing wasn't as nice as Tony thought, since a mobile alien was a lot harder to keep tracking of than a bedridden one, teleporting aside. The man stumbled a lot, often collapsing in the halls and unable to move again until Tony came around to collect him. Worried that he'd get into something or manage to wander somewhere he shouldn't, Tony situated the man in the lab and assigned Dum-E to babysitting duty (which pleased the robot immensely).

Luckily the increase in walking led to a decrease in teleporting or transforming and Dum-E didn't have too much trouble herding his new task away from dangerous items or exits. Tony thought the new situation worked fine- no one was hurt, Dum-E was staying away from the fire extinguisher, he got a lot of work done -but Pepper seemed to disagree. She took one look at Dum-E tugging on the man's arm to keep him from walking into a welding torch and protested.

"What are you doing? You can't just treat him like a dog and give him to Dum-E." Tony didn't see what the problem was. Dum-E had more focus to spare than he did. He's also never made Dum-E watch over a dog before... at least he didn't think he did. That could have been one of those drunken 'I want a pet' moments he doesn't remember.

"No one's treating him like a dog. More like a... magical doll that happens to like walking into things. He's fine." And he really was. Tony could see improvement everyday, and while the man didn't respond he started reacting to the world around him. He'd often gravitate towards activity, that generally being Tony working in his lab, and would usually only teleport when he was left somewhere dark or quiet. Tony knew the busy of his lifestyle suited the man far more than some mental ward or SHIELD's containment cells.

Pepper wasn't fully convinced, but she finally agreed with his logic and let him continue how he was. Not that it really mattered to Tony: he knew he was getting somewhere, regardless of how simple his methods were. He just had to be patient.

Then that evening, while Tony was putting the finishing touches on his latest suit, there was a loud crash from the other side of the lab. Following the sound, just audible enough that Tony could hear it, was an agitated whine- the first sound he had ever heard his guest make.

Tony hurried to where the sound was and could have laughed with delight were it not for the fact that his now-aware guest looked terrified. The man was on his knees, arms wrapped tightly around his chest while he curled protectively into himself. A crate of metal parts was upside-down on the floor not too far away along with Dum-E, who whirred anxiously and craned his arm over the man's back to check on him.

"Hey, it's okay. Calm down, it's-" Tony started to reassure as his got to his knees in front of the frightened man when green eyes- bright and vivid and wet with tears, but they were clear, beautifully clear -darted up and looked right at Tony. The billionaire felt his breath catch in his throat, and oh god, there had been times when he thought the other man would never regain awareness. Even when rapidly flickering eyes moved away, trying to catalog everything at once but completely overwhelmed, Tony could still feel the weight of that momentary gaze.

He smiled softly, whispering earnestly, "It's good to see you back, Sleeping Beauty."

Said Disney princess wasn't in the clear, however, and the man was wheezing heavily, panicked. Tony began talking to him again, using his calm to try and bring the other back down just as Yinsen had done. Then Tony made a mistake, reaching a hand out to gently brush against his guest's arm. The man freaked, flinging himself backwards and colliding with Dum-E. He gasped and trembled like a cornered animal- gripped, Tony knew, in the throes of senseless fear – with his hands clawing furrows into the ground.

But then the struggling suddenly cut out, and Tony felt his stomach dropped when he realized what that meant. "Hey, no, listen! Don't fade out again!" He reached forwards again, tilting the man's head and staring into reactive green before they dulled once again.

"Damn it!" Tony punched the ground in frustration. They had been so close! He regarded the slumped body before him, watching as Dum-E nudged it with no reaction. Emptiness had gripped the man's mind once again, but now he knew for sure that someone survived beyond the haze. Somewhere in there was a person, and Tony was going help him escape.

Tony worked to keep his guest in the area while he worked on stuff, talking to him and asking him questions even though he got no reply. Occasionally he could see green eyes tracking the movement around him, and other times the man experienced panic attacks when his consciousness came closer to the surface. When such events occurred, Tony made sure to keep sudden movement and sound to a minimum, pretty confident now that the man- with his sun deficient skin and surprise at any stimulus -had been sensory deprived on some level. But it was also clear that, overwhelming or not, the man sought noise and light. So Tony made sure that there was always some song streaming over the speakers and that the lights were also present but unobtrusive, and slowly but surely the moments of clarity lasted longer.

Until one day- a bit over two months from when the alien had fallen into his life- Tony was helping the other through another panic attack when, instead of falling away, the man fixed his attention on Tony. He watched, breathless, as pale lips moved, mouthing words but unable to find the air to speak them.

'Come on,' Tony thought fervently, resisting the impulse to reach out in support. 'You can do this, you're almost there.'

Then, finally, beautifully, a word managed to pass through those quivering lips.

"What...?"


	3. Chapter 3

"_Taken by the seamless vision, __  
__I close my eyes,__  
__Ignore the smoke...__  
__  
__Call an optimist, she's turning blue,__  
__Such a lovely color for you.__  
__Call it aftermath, she's turning blue, __  
__While I__ just sit and stare at you.__  
__Because I don't want to know..._

_Mistook their nods for an approval, __  
__Just ignore the smoke and smile._"

-o-o-o-

Fear, volcanic and devouring, pulsed and festered. Seized by desperation but paralyzed by inability, he was assaulted by searing light and agonizing touch. Breath, heavy and foreign in his lungs, burned more harshly than the lack ever had. He was aflame, helpless- colors swirled around him: cruelly, mockingly. It was tactile overload, every piece of him screaming out in confusion.

(what what what what what what what what)

White and blue, pressing in closer, everywhere- outside, inside, from every pore and orifice. Demanding, beguiling, blinding- he could feel it suffocating him, smothering him, seeking his mind and consuming it. There was no escape, no relief. Creeping, insidious, the blue filled his lungs- get out, _get out_! -and there was too much air, too much- but not enough, his chest burned, erupted, twisted and shriveled.

Flee, had to _flee_- why aren't you moving? Let me go, get me out of here! -away from everything. Warmth on his skin -not warm, incinerating -and sound in his ears -thunder, ringing incessantly and shaking his very bones. Everything was crowding him- the reek of blood, molten lava oozing down his flesh, blaring in his mind- and he couldn't handle it.

Magic snatched his limbs, yanking him away, away, away -but there was no reprieve. Color exploded around him, things he had forgotten -silver, brown, gray -and gouged deep into his brain. Impact jarred his bones, rattled his soul. Wrong. It was all _wrong_! The black- where was the **black**? Soothing, terrifying, detestable, brilliant black- vanished, leaving him- "_Abandoned, suffering, left to die_".

Don't want this.

Don't want this.

_Don't want-_

And it all went mercifully blank.

…

Things eventually started fading back in, subtly at first. A voice in his ear, boisterous and alive. Pressure on his arm- touch, someone is touching him -and his feet moving before he realized they were. They filtered in to him slowly, so slowly; a myriad of shapes and shades settling in softly around him. It slipped his mind why these things should be feared, why everything should be something else. Should be... be... black. But that faded into the bliss, and he couldn't even remember where he was or what he was doing.

Sometimes, he forgot who he was.

He languished in the calm for a long time, occasionally feeling a spark of something -wrong, this is wrong! What is going on? Where am I? Why can't I remember? -that fell easily through the cracks. At times, when the sound hushed and the light drowned and things were almost right, almost black, the fog became so complete that everything... slowed... down... Nothingness came upon him, pulling away little pieces of who he was, and he was almost content to let it. Almost. But from the depths of his mind there was resistance- I am _Loki_! And I won't let you take that from me! -and then suddenly he was surrounded by noise and colors again, pushing away the abyss that continued to haunt his mind.

Memories often flared through his half-awake mind, bittersweet and putrid. They were choppy and incomplete; he could remember little beyond the very things he so greatly sought to forget. It was all disappointed gold, sorrowful red, and hateful blue. His last few days of life- for he was not alive now, not truly -echoed the loudest. They warped savagely from "_You're my brother and my friend. Sometimes I'm envious, but never doubt that I love you,_" to "_I could have done it, father! I could h__ave done it! For you, for all of us!_" and the damning two words that followed.

Then there were words and scenes that he didn't remember. They too were brimming with red and gold, but that was where the similarities ended. Unlike his other memories, these did not promise joy only to wither and rot inside his mind. They were enticing, novel, and pushed back the storms of vicious thoughts.

But he could not place where they were from. When had red and gold -not just one or the other, but both curiously intertwined- ever said, "God damn it, not again! What are you supposed to be, a werewolf or something? Can we not turn into giant dogs in the middle of the living room?" to him? It was a memory, was it not? It had to be, for it filled his mind with the same vague, incomplete sensations as the others. However, unlike them, it lacked any despair. These new visions did not leave him feeling hollow and shattered. Hallucinations, then? There was no other explanation.

His hollow peace did not last long, and as his mind awoke it brought with it shrieking terror.

Again and again he would lose himself in the torrent that was his disjointed thoughts: the questions, demands, and pleas. At first such events were highlighted only by the increase in feeling- still too unknown, too razor edged, butchering and violating him in the most intimate ways -and it had made him crave black. Under that desire was self-loathing for such cowardice and doubt of his resilience, for even thinking he wanted to go back to the beginning and the end; yet it was familiar, oh so familiar, and in this emerging world of uncertainty he craved it. But then something accompanied the panic, something that eased the fear and made the lure of **black** less seductive.

It started with just faint murmurs, a stark contrast to the roaring behemoth that was everything else. Then there was gentle touches- at first startling but then welcomed- reassuring him and giving him something to cling to as the world cycloned. Hands brushed away tears- Crying? When had he started crying? -and held him close as he tried to figure out what was going on before the blankness- and he realized again why he had hated it, tried so hard to keep it away -corroded consciousness. And then the words became distinct, weighing heavy in his ears- but it was good. He wanted that, wanted this.

With every -"Hey, calm down, you're safe."- sentence spoken pacifying in his ear -"Everything's okay, I got you." -he felt the horrible need to retreat fade away- "Nothing is going to hurt you here." -and pieces of his jumbled psyche rebuild.

Each time awareness was his, he clung to it tighter and tighter, not letting go until he just could not hold on anymore. His panic upon having his thoughts realign made it hard to think clearly, but he tried to push beyond it. It was close, so close, and Loki would have it. So with the help of a stranger, the God of Mischief reigned back in what the void had scattered. He seized his sanity, and while he knew such a grasp would only be tentative for now, he didn't care. Clarity would be his, even if just for a moment.

And that moment finally came. The expected panic attack gripped him before he even understood that sensations were bombarding him, but the second it clicked that he was in his mind once again he dug in deep. Determined, unrelenting, he dragged himself forwards. Past the howling storm of jagged, swirling colors and harsh, grating sounds. Past the irrationality and lurking nightmares. He headed towards the voice cutting through the maelstrom, letting it be his beacon. It guided him out from the darkness, and with one last, desperate scramble, Loki was thrown from his madness.

The first thing his tired mind registered was the man crouched in front of him, hands holding his quaking shoulders and lips uttering a litany of sweet-nothings- but they weren't nothing, not to Loki. They were freedom.

He stared at the man for a moment, trying to put his racing mind in order. He had so many questions, and as he looked into brown eyes- hopeful, incredulous, relieved -he tried to put words to them. His own lips moved, but his gasping lungs could not provide him the air he needed. He fumbled, and the questions began to derail.

(Falling, falling, into the void. Stars fading until all that was left was absolutely _nothing_.)

No! Loki forced himself to try again, this time slowing the pace of each inhale and exhale. He could do this. The fog could not take him yet.

With quivering lips, he finally put substance to his confusion.

"What...?"

Loki wanted to say more, but just the one word was hard enough; it had been the first actually voiced in many, many years, and he could still feel the lingering, omnipresent sensation of asphyxiation. Air in his lungs was an unfamiliar burden, burning inside of him.

Yet in that one spoken word, he combined all the other questions that he sought answers for: What was he doing here? Where was all the black? Who are you? Why are you helping me? Is this really even happening? What's going on?

The stranger in front of him -tan skin, short messy hair, warm brown eyes, clean shaven goatee, oil stains on his white shirt -seemed to understand what Loki wanted, even though he couldn't properly communicate it, and started rambling.

"I'm Tony Stark, but you probably don't know me -and damn is that a weird thought- which is fine. You're at my house in Malibu, California- Earth. Um, you fell through my roof -totally not cool, by the way. You landed on my nicest car- and..." The man kept talking, and Loki let the words wash over him, soothing him, even though he didn't understand most of what was being said. It had been so long, too long, since he had been around this- around life. Comforted by the sound, he started to relax, thankful that the words kept coming. It really had been too long since he heard someone else talk, and even longer since the words did not contain some sort of slight against his person.

Loki didn't even realize he had been zoning out until he got a soft but sharp slap on the face. He blinked away the accumulating fog and refocused on the man -Stark, he had said -who was giving him a concerned look.

"Come on, stay focused for a little bit longer. At least come get something to eat and stretch your legs for a while." Tony stood up and offered a hand to Loki.

Before the void, the god would have vehemently denied the help, taking it as an insult to his abilities as a fighter.

(I am not weak; I can fight! Spells and schemes are as important to war as your bullish brawn. I too am a warrior. Don't look down at me!)

Now, however, he reached up and accepted the hand: the very hand that had led him when he was lost. Later, when he was feeling more like himself (himself? What even was his 'self'? Bitter, angry, vengeful? Depressed, betrayed, sorrowful? …Happy, content, loved?) he'd make sure this mortal did not look down on him- that no one looked down at him ...but right now, Loki just couldn't bring himself to care. This man was invaluable in allowing him to regain his mind- was there when Loki needed him- and for that he knew he'd forever be grateful.

When Loki regained his feet, assisted greatly by Stark -whose arms still supported him, a solid wall against the fog that was encroaching upon him again, a sanctuary- he finally became aware of the weakness in his body.

(Pathetic: he was pathetic).

His muscles felt watery, and while they held his weight they protested it greatly, quivering and aching. That was when he recalled glimpses of an emaciated, ruined body from the void- _his_ ruined, emaciated body.

Hesitating for only a moment -did he really want to solidify the broken images in his mind? -he looked down at himself, taking in the unearthly tone of his skin and the unnatural thinness of his limbs. Where there was once compact muscle, lithe and graceful, was an atrophied mess. It was wrong, disgusting, wretched, and he hated the fact that it was him.

(Look at how far you have fallen, puny god. Everyone will see you for the runt you are. Who would love you now?)

"Oh, don't worry about that. You already look tons better than you did a few months ago, and you'll probably be back to your impressive leather-clad self in no time." A hand grabbed his arm and started steering him towards a glass wall and some stairs, pulling him from his despair. Loki felt confused and muddled as he stared, without comprehension, at the hand that held him (it was warm, soft. Such a contrast from the jagged cold of his own flesh). Was this man truly not repulsed by such a feeble god?

Stark looked back when Loki wasn't following, ignoring the insistent pulling on his (bony, vile) arm. He gazed into Loki's eyes, and the Liesmith could see understanding dawn on the man's face. Slowly, as if he were approaching a spooked horse, Stark reached up and rested his palm on Loki's cheek.

"Hey, look at me." Loki did, enticed by the voice that was both familiar and foreign. He tried to ignore how desperate he must look, eyes wide and glittering with unshed tears. This was what he had wanted, wasn't it? He could do this; Loki could do this.

(But who is Loki? Who am _I_? Asgardian or Jotun? God or monster? Beloved son or stolen relic?)

"I wasn't lying when I said you look tons better. You've come really far. Just give it more time. So you don't look like a bodybuilder right now; it isn't the end of the world, Hercules. Things will get better." Stark's words rang clear and honest, a sharp contrast to the subtle jibes he had long been accustomed. Loki welcomed that change, even if everything else wasn't making much sense to him right now.

"Now come on, walk with me." He was pulled forwards again, and his brain stuttered at the motion. Had this happened before? He felt like he'd done this before…it felt normal. This was the first time he's met Stark, but it felt as if he's known the man for a long time. Stark clearly was used to him, unconsciously shifting to balance Loki as he entered the code to open the door, yet the memories were lost to him. What had happened while he was trapped in his mind? How long had he been here, with this stranger on an even stranger realm, completely defenseless? Was he even safe here?

(You can't trust anyone. They'll turn on you, betray you. They always do. You know that.)

Yet despite his thoughts, Loki did feel safe. It was a weird feeling- a mix of nostalgia and déjà vu, impressions that he couldn't remember the reason for- but it eased his mind nonetheless. Odious fog in his mind made it hard for Loki to focus on anything, and he could not properly defend himself, but Stark had made no move to hurt Loki or take advantage of his weakness. And while the man was new to Loki, Loki obviously wasn't new to him.

So Loki followed, trusting Stark for now. When he didn't feel like he was on the cusp of losing his mind, he'd take matters into his own hands. But for now… it was nice not having to struggle alone.

(You'll _always_ be alone.)

They climbed the steps leading upstairs; Loki had to drag his body up each step, hating himself more and more with each stumble. Stark stayed close by, helping to keep from slipping down the steps, but otherwise letting Loki find his own limit- both of which were appreciated, though Loki wished the former wasn't necessary. Their slow rise only served to bring Loki down; he despised how such a simple task was so hard. It made his limbs tremble, lungs heave, and bones burn. Constant pain was his companion.

He wished he knew what had happened when he first came here. There were snippets, but so much was missing to him, so much he failed to grasp. If only the Asgardians could see him now: they'd see what weakness really looks like.

(Maybe they had always seen, and that's why they shunned him so.)

"What would you like to eat?" Stark asked as he guided Loki to a chair and went off to rifle through some cabinets, leaving his guest to obediently sit and wait. The other man didn't even wait for a reply before he continued talking. "I'm not really in the mood for cooking something, and you probably won't be able to wait that long, so how about a smoothie? Everyone loves smoothies."

Loki's depression was persistent, dark thoughts and merciless fog beating him down, but the mindless chatter redirected him. It wasn't much, yet it was easier to ignore the black inside as he watched Tony pour some juice and frozen fruit into a glass container. The machine was unfamiliar, and he felt the faint stirring of curiosity. It was Midgardian technology: novel, interesting, unthreatening. There were no emotional strings attached. His desire to learn and understand would not hurt him here.

He turned away from the whirring little machine and Stark (it had been so long since willingly he turned his back to a stranger. He couldn't decide if this was an improvement or mistake), taking in the rest of the house he could see. It was... refreshingly different from Asgard. Tony Stark was clearly wealthy, as his house was outlandishly spacious, but it lacked the constant gold of the palace. Instead, it was ostentatious in more subtle ways. There was expensive looking furniture in every room and large pieces of artwork on the walls, as well as a fountain by the stairwell. But the grandiosity of the design was overtaken by what he was sure was supposed to be an endearing feature. The windows, however, did nothing more than make Loki feel confined, threatened.

They were everywhere on the outside walls, overlooking the ocean and the sky- blue, as far as the eye could see. So much time had passed since he had seen anything besides the black, but the picturesque sight lacked the expected awe; all it did was fill him with fear. It was too blue.

(Afraid of a color? You're a joke.)

Rancid memories plagued his mind, invasive. Born of blue, of simple glances out a window, the reminiscence made his skin itch and his lungs burn. His past haunted his mind, festering within him. "_I'm not your brother. I nev__er was!_"

(I want to be.)

He forced himself to turn away, unwillingly to be drawn into the past. Stark walked over just a moment later, setting a thick, bright purple drink in front of him. Loki just stared it, unsure. When was the last time he actually ate? His stomach constantly ached with hunger, but that pain had long since been expected. This was not.

His host had no such inhibitions, happily slurping down his drink across from Loki. "You know you can't eat it by staring at it, right? Just try it. You'll like it a lot more than tube feeding, trust me. I even gave you a bendy straw."

The man reached across the table to push the drink closer to the god, and Loki sluggishly lifted an arm to grab the glass. Wary, he brought the drink towards his lips, mimicking Tony and using the 'bendy straw'- which was apparently a green striped plastic tube that bent at the top.

All he took was one quick sip, and then the world abruptly slipped out from beneath him. It was like getting run over by a bilgesnipe, fast and furious. Mind moored in confusion, it took him another movement to realize that exotic flavors were coating his tongue, feeling more like he had swallowed burning coals instead of a cold drink.

"-should have thought about that. Stupid. Stupid! Oh yeah, haven't eaten anything for god knows how long? Been sensory deprived? Let's just throw a smoothie at you! It'll be fine. Totally not a terrible idea-"

When Loki finally managed to push past the overload, the drink was nowhere in sight. In its place before him was Tony, guilt plastered on his expression.

"You alright? I'm so sorry about that. I hadn't thought… I'll remember that next time. Would you like some water? There's nothing more plain than that…"

He didn't remember Tony getting up, but a moment later there was another glass in front of him, this one filled with nothing but clear water. He blinked at it a few times before his brain clicked back into place enough for him to realize he'd not get anywhere just watching it.

More cautious this time- fearing the vivacious sensation, the drowning bursts of taste, and the insidious blank that follow –he drank from the glass. When nothing happened, he started drinking faster, forcing shaking hands to cooperate. Cold liquid slid down his ragged throat, soothing his pain for the first time in a long time.

The glass was gone far too quickly, and he wanted to throw the cup on the ground and demand more; let the cool liquid soothe the searing inside of him, but even one glass had made him nauseous. Just as his mind was unaccustomed to his new surroundings, so was his body. Loathe as he was to admit it, there were limits now. Making himself violently ill would not be productive for anyone.

(Unless he died. Then everyone would benefit.)

"-guess that's good enough for now. Jarvis, order some bland foods please. Healthy and bland. Shouldn't be too hard to find."

He thought he heard another voice, one that wasn't Tony, but it sounded distant, fuzzy. The words didn't click in his mind, if they were there at all. Everything around him seemed to be moving slowly, as if the world was submerged in viscous water. Sound and sight were distorted- blotchy and near indecipherable. Just trying to think, let alone tell what Stark was saying, took far more effort than it should.

"-hard to talk, but if you can manage there's a few things I'd like to know. If writing would be easier, we could also try that. I just want to know a few things."

When the words computed, Loki felt his heart sink. That was it? Pleasantries were over, and the interrogation could begin?

(I'm not ready to think about _it_. Please don't ask me about_ it_.)

But Loki owed this man, and if he wanted answers then Loki was obligated by his honor to try and supply them. Mustering his mind, he breathed in deeply, the influx of oxygen reassuring him. Then he shifted slightly in his seat to make himself appear more confident than he was. It was just talking; he could do this.

"What… do you want… to know?" He rasped, throat rough despite the soothing drink.

Stark crossed his fingers and rested his chin on top of them, elbows rested firmly on the table. Loki studied his expression intently, trying to organize his thoughts enough to figure this man out. Who was he, and could Loki trust his life to him?

(Not that he could do anything about it if the man was a threat. He'll soon fade away, vulnerable and open.)

The man's expression was serious, but he smiled softly, disarmingly. Loki recognized the look, having worn it many times before. It was charismatic: a calculated blend of emotions. He was the God of Lies; he knew masks like the back of his hands. Stark couldn't hide behind false sincerity.

But to Loki's surprise, Stark wasn't hiding ill will as he'd automatically come to expect. Lying under the neutral smile was just concern, like Stark knew how hard it was to have people pity you when you didn't want them to. Nothing in his body language conveyed any malice to Loki.

(His mind was rotting; he couldn't trust it. All of his skills, his knowledge, were compromised. His senses weren't all the black took from him.)

"Well your name would definitely be a good place to start; I ran out of clever things to call you in the first week."

Name. He could do that (as long as he didn't require the family name. Odinson or Laufeyson? Loki still didn't know). "Loki…I am Loki."

Stark's eyebrows shoot up, and Loki realized he recognized the name. But before the Norse god could panic (what had he heard? Would he not want to help Loki anymore? Did he realize now that he was taking care of a monster?) the other replied, "Cool. So, God of Mischief? Pretty impressive title. Makes sense though. There has been plenty of chaos lately..."

Then the man muttered something about 'damn horses in the kitchen' and 'lion is his fucking bedroom', and Loki thought that should mean something to him, but he couldn't remember what.

"So speaking of animals, not knowing how you do it has been killing me. Magic, right? But it doesn't make sense. Shape-shifting is just not scientifically possible." Tony gestured wildly at that, clearly frustrated with his lack of understanding.

Magic? Not… anything else? Loki couldn't accept that the man didn't want to know more. He was a stranger in the person's home, and there was nothing keeping him from harming Tony is he chose- not that he had any desire to, but it was the fact that he could that mattered. Were it his life that was exposed in such a way, he'd have interrogated his guest as soon as he could to ascertain whether or not they were a threat. This man was being too trusting, letting a monster into his home without protection.

(Because obviously he was a threat, barely able to string two thoughts together.)

When he got no reply (it was so hard for him to talk, to make sense of things), Stark kept babbling, leaving Loki struggling to keep up.

"-analyzed it, but it's just mass from nothing. So does that mean magic is related to gamma radiation, because…that'd be pretty cool, actually. Is that possible? I…can humans teleport? Or is that something special? A teleporting machine would be…"

Volume fluctuating, Loki grasped onto the bits he could hear. To try and keep his brain from failing, he started forcing himself to answer the questions, even if he couldn't manage it out loud.

And that was when things went wrong.

Loki began to answer the question of teleportation- because he did know. He studied the conversion of magical abilities originating in the Nine Realms to regular science for over a century, and he was regarded -at least by people other than the warriors of Asgard -as an expert in rewriting magic into physics – when he abruptly realized that _he didn't know_. He should have, but where that knowledge had been was just empty space. It was gone.

Everything came to a screeching halt as Loki froze, feeling suddenly blindsided. What was he missing? He knew everything else, all the basics of magic and known technology... and then he realized that that was it. He knew the basics, things he had reviewed for almost his whole life and knew almost as well as his name. But all those details he prided himself on, the things that made him stand apart as a scholar in the Nine Realms and beyond, were gone.

"Loki? Um, hey, dude, are you slipping again?"

Completely forgetting that Stark had been talking, that there was even an outside world at all, Loki tried to do a quick mental catalog of the contents of his brain. The fog resisted his efforts, but he tore past it. It was his _mind_. He had to know.

Spells? Only the ones he had used often. He couldn't recall how to do a single complex ritual, nor any high arcane spells except for the ones that allowed him to hide from Heimdall and traverse the Realms. History? Even less remained of that than his arcane repertoire. Physics? Chemistry? These were the things he had studied most recently, as they were not as important inside the realms themselves, and he couldn't remember but the simplest of formulas.

He had been able to ignore how weak he had become -simple conversation had winded him, his muscles shook from holding him up in his chair, he still could not bring himself to look out the window – because he had been secure in the knowledge that his essence, his intellect, was still in tact. That if he could just breach the fog a vast wealth of knowledge, rivaled by no other, was open to him. With his genius, Loki was still Loki; still able to craft spells and plots and bend the world to his whims.

But he saw now that he was wrong. His mental archives, treasured more deeply than all the riches in the universe, had gone up in flames. They burned, utterly and completely, and all the remained was gaping spaces and thick smoke- smoke that was now obscuring his mind faster and faster. With it, his traitorous thoughts returned: What was the point in resisting? He was _nothing_. If he hadn't been before, the void certainly made sure of it. Loki -not even graced with a last name anymore, for no one wanted him -was worthless, to anyone and everyone.

Horrified at his realization Loki's mind stumbled, and the fog that had been lurking surged forwards immediately to exploit the opening.

Black was everywhere, clawing at him. It wanted him, to destroy and violate him. Insatiable, it flooded his lungs, ridding them of air. Breathe… He couldn't breathe. Consuming, devouring, **black** overtook everything.

"-just calm down, it's okay. Breathe. What's wrong? Was it something I said? Come on, you have to talk to me…"

He was back in the void, lost and desperate. There was no way out, no way to free himself. Falling, forever, never to hit the bottom. Descending into an odious abyss, darkness dragging him farther and farther from the light.

(But he was never going to die. He wanted to die.)

"Please, look at me. I know you're in there somewhere. I won't talk about magic anymore if you don't want to. We can go down to my labs. Dum-E would be thrilled to meet you, I'm sure. Or I could show you my suit. It's really awesome... Come on, just say something. Loki, _please_."

A voice…Again a voice fought against the black, pulling at his mind, urging him away from the fire. It beckoned, pleaded. He wanted to follow, but at the same time he didn't want to do anything.

(Maybe the void would kill him this time.)

Behind all of his masks, Loki was blue: both in flesh and in mind. Had he succeeded in killing himself that day so long ago, it would not have been a mistake. The mistake lied in his survival. Were Loki not so impulsive, he'd have waited to do it right the first time.

But he wasn't dead, and he felt arms wrap around his shuddering frame- Stark, once again trying to save him from the beast inside his own mind. He could hear his name spoken like a prayer -so long has it been since it actually was -and the continuous effort to cajole him out from where he had retreated. Depression warred inside him, armed with the scars left from the void, and Loki finally made his call.

Lungs decaying inside his chest, it was agony to get out one simple plea. "Distraction… I- I need a distraction… something else to think about."

Or he'd decide he really didn't want to live, and he'd surrender everything. Loki didn't know what he wanted- the Loki who was not broken and wracked with despair, who had loved and had been loved -but it certainly wasn't that. It never should have been that.

"Distraction?" The man parroted. "Good, I can do that. One god-sized distraction coming right up." Loki tried to pay attention to the world outside of his head as Stark grabbed his arm and pulled him onto unsteady legs.

It only took him a few steps before he realized it'd take too long at the pace he could manage, and from the way his body was protesting Loki wouldn't be surprised if he ended up collapsing on the way. Taking a guess as to their destination- the room that reeked of metal and oil and was always so alive it was like a flame to his moth -he dug his heels in while grasping the other man's hand in his own. Brown eyes turned questioningly towards him just before green enveloped both of them, accompanied by the feeling of ripples on the skin. He closed his eyes as space distorted around him, and when they opened again he was met with an organized mess of machines.

"Did you just...?" Tony must have caught Loki's desperate expression, because he trailed off and, instead of getting sidetracked by his first experience teleporting, led the god forwards. "I was going to save it for last when I showed you around, but no point in starting small, I guess. Jarvis, get the lights and bring them up."

A set of lights turned on just overhead and a section of the floor started splitting open to reveal gleaming red and gold. Loki flinched at the color choice but kept his gaze on the metal men, waiting on a knife's edge for Stark to do something, anything, to chase away the panic.

"These are my Iron Man suits. There's no other like them since no one else is smart enough to make one of these bad boys." Stark tapped proudly on his chest, producing a metallic thunk instead of the hollow thump of bone. Only then did Loki notice the glowing triangle that just barely shone through the thick fabric of the man's shirt. "It's a miniaturized arc reactor. I'll tell you more about it later. Right now, let's get one of these guys up. Jarvis, prepare Mark Seventeen for a test run."

(Please, hurry. I can't fight it off much longer. I don't… I don't want to fall anymore. Please, don't let me fall.)

"Of course, sir." A voice intoned out of nowhere, the same one he had thought he heard earlier. Someone else was there? That couldn't be; he hadn't noticed anyone else. He would have noticed, wouldn't he? Loki's muscles seized, an internalized fight or flight reaction. He trusted Stark, no one else. Who else was there?

Stark seemed to realize the problem and quickly rushed to fix his misconception. "Oh, no, that's just Jarvis. He's a computer. Sorry, I forgot you haven't actually met Jarvis. It's okay. He's an AI that runs the house. Jarvis, meet Loki. Loki, Jarvis. And," he paused and peered around the room. "Dum-E should be somewhere around here as well... Dum-E's a robot as well, don't worry."

Assured that no one else was going to come upon him while he was defenseless, Loki tried to get his limbs to unlock and mind to focus on Tony, who was telling him about the suits again. The man chatted ceaselessly while the suit farthest left began to get pulled apart by a variety of mechanical arms. Loki did his best to pay attention, even though he could feel himself slipping through the cracks wrought by the void.

"One sec. Let me get this thing on." The man stepped forwards to a small platform beside where the armor was stored, and Loki watched as the metal pieces were fixed onto the man's body. It was very different from armor on Asgard, though it did remind him unnervingly of the Destroyer. But the differences were enough that Loki felt more intrigued than unnerved, and Stark's distraction was working well enough. Eventually it wouldn't be, but for now it gave him something else to focus on and keep grounded.

When the last piece clicked in place, Tony did a few test stretches before grinning- under which there was still stress and worry, but both men were trying to ignore the tension bearing down on them -and jumping from the platform. "Let's go to the garage. You can keep Dum-E from dousing me while I give you a tour of the suit's abilities."

Walking alone proved to be a bit more than he could handle at the moment so Stark grabbed his arm and started guiding his steps, supplying Loki with a constant stream of information. The god didn't notice they had crossed the room until a metallic gleam caught his eye, drawing his attention to the machine rolling over towards them. It stopped directly in front of him, nearly touching him; Loki struggled to resist flinching away, especially when it grasped the sleeve of the loose shirt he was wearing and tugged on it lightly.

Stark seemed unconcerned, however, and laid a supporting metal hand on Loki's shoulder. "This is Dum-E. He's gotten pretty attached to you lately. Trust me, he won't hurt you."

Then he turned to address the robot. "Why don't you take him over to your usual spot? Then you can keep an eye on him and not the fire extinguisher." Apparently this deal pleased 'Dummy' and when Stark relinquished his hold on Loki the robot pulled more insistently.

(Don't leave me, please. I don't want to be alone.)

He didn't want to leave Stark's side. The man had become his lifeline, whether Loki wanted to admit it or not. Reassuring touches and soothing whispers was all that kept him sane as his world went up in smoke. But at the same time he had to trust the man, and if Stark wanted him to follow the robot...

After a few more tugs on his arm, Loki eventually clenched down on his indecision and let himself be led away, glancing over a few times to check that Stark was still there. The man smiled at him, making no move to abandon him in the garage. He just waited until Loki was corralled into the corner and the chair stationed there before starting his demonstration for Loki.

The god knew he didn't have much time left (atrocious darkness feasting upon his consciousness), but this was exactly what he needed. As he watched Tony demonstrate the missile system and try out a new feature he had added (a cloaking device that he accidentally destroyed while attempting a forwards roll in the suit), he felt calmer. It was so unlike the darkness and Asgard. Of all the places to fall, he's glad it was Midgard... with Tony Stark.

Drifting in and out of focus, he distantly promised himself that later, when it wasn't so hard to think clearly and his guts didn't twist with irrational terror, he'd try to build something with this man. His knowledge may be missing... but that didn't mean he couldn't learn it again.

"I think that's all I can show you without destroying the house, and while I'm normally all for that I'm trying to not make Pepper made at me. Oh, I know, why don't we-"

-o-o-o-

"-go flying! It's like having free airfare, and I can show you some of the cooler parts of Earth. Well, California mostly, since..." Tony trailed off as he finally looked over to where his guest- Loki -was sitting.

"Aaaannnd you've cut out again. Alright, well, I'll just ask you next time."

He sighed, slumping over slightly as he finally let a bit of his stress show. Not that he wasn't happy. Loki finally talking and reacting to his surroundings was amazing, and Tony was ecstatic about that part. It was the other part, the fear and zoning out, that he was really concerned about. The other man had remained really tense for the duration of their interaction, and the more tense he got the less aware he seemed to get.

Though if Tony had a choice, he really wanted to know what had happened to Loki these past few years. The only thing he knew about the god was that he -or at least someone with the same name, but he doubted it was anyone different -had been involved in the Destroyer incident seven years ago. Which meant that in seven years he had gone from wreaking havoc on Earth to... this. Slumped over in a chair, eyes half closed as they gazed at nothing. Frail and defenseless, completely at the mercy of those around him. The man before Tony wasn't anyone's idea of a god.

But he was Loki, the person Tony spent two months helping, and will probably spend a lot more on. Surprisingly, Tony found that he wasn't bothered by the idea. It was commitment, and everyone knew he shied away from that- whether it be showing up to board meetings on time (or at all) or having a steady relationship.

This, though, this was like being Iron Man: he did it not because he felt like he had to, but because that was just the way it was. Nor was it just to honor the memory of Yinsen and all he did for Tony. Talking to Loki, actually seeing the person inside the shell, made it all the more real, more important.

The last few hours found Tony unwittingly comparing himself to Loki, and the similarities were there: masks to hide their unease, the need for something to just distract you for a bit. It was like looking in the mirror, both right after Afghanistan and today. Maybe when the god recovered those qualities would change and Tony would find himself a fool for seeing himself in a stranger, but for now the parallels were there.

"Jarvis, prep the dock. Play time is over for now." Tony headed over to Loki and Dum-E, chuckling a bit as the robot tried shoving the slipping body upright again. When he reached them he shooed Dum-E out of the way and lifted the man.

"It was nice talking to you, you know." He spoke idly, glancing down towards empty eyes. "Hopefully next time you'll be able to say a bit more."

Because Tony didn't doubt there'd be a next time, or a time after that. Loki proved that he could win over the darkness in his mind if he tried; all Tony had to do was make sure he kept trying. Whether it be tomorrow or in a week, Loki would return and Tony would be waiting to guide him from whatever dark cave his mind found itself in. He'd lead him through the smoke and the fire, and even small steps were one step closer to the blue sky.

(It's too bad they didn't have as much time as Tony thought they did.)


	4. Chapter 4

"_Pay no mind what other voices say,__  
__They don't care about you,__  
__Like I do.__  
__Safe from pain, and truth, and choice, and other poison devils.__  
__See they don't give a fuck about you,__  
__Like I __do.__  
__  
__Just stay with me,__  
__Safe and ignorant.__  
__Go back to sleep.__  
__Go back to sleep._"

-o-o-o-

He was suffocating. There was no air to fill his lungs; there wasn't anything. It drowned him and, tossed and turned by dark waves, he was completely lost. There was no up or down, no direction. He was helpless to do anything but curl up tight, desperately wishing for the vertigo to cease.

From the darkness came beasts, invisible but tactile. They touched his arm- grasping, crooked hands that dragged him down. He lashed out, mindlessly, frightfully, every part of him screaming to be let go- every part but his mouth, because he couldn't get enough oxygen in his lungs to make a single sound.

"-can't we do this another time? I'm in the middle of something here!"

"Whatever you are doing is not more important than stopping the rampage of a madman! Get your ass over there now!"

"Just give me a bit, I can't-"

Fulgurate voices flashed in his ears, but he could not comprehend the words. All he could understand was the angry tones; he wasn't safe here.

Then those sharp claws dug into him again, and suddenly air flooded his fluttering lungs; with it, he screamed: loud and high and desperate.

"God damn it!" The monster released him, but the dam had already broken. A piercing wail continued forth from his lips, nearly drowning out the yelling of the furious beasts.

"Stark, what the fuck was that?"

"Can you just shut up for a moment, Fury? You aren't helping!"

It was cacophony, and a tentative touch only made him louder.

"Sir, it looks like you are not helping either. I would suggest giving him some space. Let yourself calm down- you aren't thinking clearly."

"Stark, I demand you tell me what is going on!"

"Jarvis, turn that damn phone _off_!"

The shouting cut out, leaving only his steady keen to fill the room. He couldn't stop now that he had started; it was his only defense against the void that consumed his very being- the only thing that he had control over inside this rancid veil of black.

For a few minutes, there was nothing but his dwindling wail. He felt his pounding heart start to slow as nothing reached for him again- dared to hope that they had lost interest in him.

When one of the other voices spoke again, quiet and tentative, he was calm enough that his wailing didn't pick up again, but his entire body tensed; he was wired to fight. He wasn't safe here.

"I don't... What am I suppose to do? He won't let me touch him, but I don't... He's hurting himself."

"Maybe you should leave, sir. You do have your duties as Iron Man to tend to, and I can monitor Loki while you are gone."

"But, Jarvis-"

"Sir, I must insist that staying here will not benefit either of you at the moment."

"...If anything changes, you let me know immediately. I don't care how small of a detail, you tell me."

"Of course, sir."

"...Prep the suit."

And all that was left was Loki and the darkness.

-o-o-o-

"Sir, the device was successfully deployed and is now ready for activation." Jarvis's voice announced over the howl of the wind and roar of explosions.

"Roger that. Wait until I get it within twenty feet of the ground then turn it on." Tony replied and angled downwards to shuttle across the sky, twisting and weaving out of the range of electric bursts. Following in his wake came another metallic man, this one silver instead of gold. It raced after Iron Man, carelessly plowing down buildings in pursuit as it was lured towards the ground. They went lower and lower, into the smoke and fire- fifty feet, forty feet, thirty feet.

Twenty.

"Now Jarvis!" Iron Man shouted, and the HUD instantly lit up as the AI complied. According to his calculations, the Doombot should be shutting down about... now.

Tony began slowing down, confident in his machine, when Jarvis suddenly shouted a warning. Twisting sharply, he was barely able to avoid getting fried alive when the still active Doombot fired from right behind him. Homicidal robot obviously not deactivated, Tony swore and put the repulsors back up to speed.

"Yo, Jarv, what's the deal? It should be working-" As if to emphasize his statement, the automaton tried to hit Iron Man again, this one barely missing. "Hey, cut that out back there!"

"I don't know what went wrong, sir. All reports show that it is working."

"Well it clearly isn't!"

Damn it! If this model of 'All Your Base Are Belong to Us' didn't work, that meant he just wasted the last two months he spent trying to make it perfect for when Doom resurfaced. It also meant he came all this way out here for nothing, when he could have been back home where he was needed- where Loki was.

(Curled up tightly in the corner, crying and terrified. Completely lost to reality, haunted by the demons inside of his mind. Making that hideous wailing noise, as if he is being ripped apart by the very hounds of Hell. Not even calmed by Tony's presence as he normally is, so overwhelmed by his internal darkness.)

"Having technology problems, Stark? And here I thought you were the king of the nerds." A taunting voice said, partly distracting Tony from his brooding. Not that hearing about his failure was much better.

"Shut up." He growled, and Barton laughed mockingly- though Tony knew the archer wanted to device to work just as much as he had, because otherwise they were just going to lose even more ground against their enemy.

He swore again under his breath, getting ready to turn around and just explode the bot and move on. It should have worked this time. There hadn't been any errors when he tested it in the lab. And he was loathe to admit to anyone, especially himself, that Victor von Third-person could out engineer him.

But just as he was spinning around, arm already raised for the finishing blow, the Doombot suddenly froze. Its jets shuddered once, twice, then it plummeted hard into the concrete below. Bits of metal plating shot off from the main body at impact, but (as Tony was pleased to note) they had been close enough to the ground that it was still relatively in one piece. Or it will be, if it doesn't detonate once Doom realized one of his robots was compromised.

Iron Man waited with baited breath to see if it would explode or not, because shutting it down meant nothing if they couldn't take it apart. If it didn't go off in the next minute, then that would be a clear indication that Mr. Metal couldn't make it- he'd never willingly allow SHIELD to get their hands on one of his creations otherwise. And it would mean Tony really was successful, which was always on the top of list for any man of science.

After the allotted amount of time passed and the robot did not erupt into a suicidal inferno, Tony finally allowed himself to whoop triumphantly. "Oh yeah, baby! The Doombot has been neutralized! Feel free to come get it and celebrate my awesomeness."

Mission accomplished, he was about to take back to the sky when two silver forms blinked onto the HUD, heading straight at him. Tony grinned, momentarily high off of scientific accomplishment, and rose to meet them. A full blast from his right repulsor sent one of them careening into a building, where it remained in smoking rubble. He twisted out of the way of the other one, preparing to shoot it as it followed him... when it flew right past him.

Confused, he just stared after it for a moment, half waiting for it to turn around and fire at him with a big 'just kidding'. Yet it kept going, and when he checked for any nearby civilians or objects of interest there was nothing there but the fallen Doombot… and Tony was an absolute moron. He had just thought to himself that Doom would never allow one of his custom robots to be captured.

"Damn it!"

Aim not completely locked, he let the repulsor go anyway. The shot fired wide, and the active Doombot ignored him as it prepared to fire at the grounded one. The machine's hand glowed blue, a close resemblance to one of Tony's own attacks, and Iron Man cursed his foolishness again. Their little trick would only work once, and he had just ruined it.

Then that blue glow suddenly sputtered out, and the robot swerved to the right before it tumbled into the sidewalk.

"Come on, Stark. Get your head in the game. That was like classic villainy trick number one." Hawkeye jested over the intercom, and Tony scowled at the arrow now protruding from the felled machine.

Iron Man shot back into the sky, making sure to flip off the small figure at the corner of a nearby rooftop. Clint Barton smirked back, because of course with his freakish eyesight he could see Tony's gesture from so far away, and then continued scouting the area from his perch.

"The area is clear from my location. How are things by you, Natasha?" Barton asked, all traces of insolence gone from his voice. Of course. Why was everyone rude to just him?

"My area is clear. All Doombots are accounted for, and agents are on their way over to pick up the compromised one. After it is secure, we're done here." Natasha Romanov, otherwise known as the Black Widow (the creepy assassin who likes skin tight outfits), replied calmly.

Tony didn't know whether to be envious of her perpetual poise, or if he should be glad he at least was capable of a variety of emotions. She was like a statue. He'd say machine, but his robots at home had more expression than the assassin. As far as Tony was concerned, her and Barton just moved to whatever tune Fury was playing, and nothing more.

He did like working with them more than Captain America, at least. Romanov and Barton mostly just ignored Tony when they worked together, making him feel like a third wheel in their… whatever their relationship was. It still wasn't fun. Then again, he supposed being a hero wasn't meant to be fun. Sometimes he wondered if the bad guys enjoyed their job more than he did, or if they had to deal with the nagging of their fellow evildoers. Maybe he should ask the next baddie they fight, check if he shouldn't be looking for a job change.

Not that he ever would. He had enough blood on his hands without going and looking for more. Working with the 'Avengers' wasn't really even that bad… okay, no, Rogers really was that bad. Tony could only take so much lectures on 'proper behavior' from Mr. Perfect before he felt the intense desire to cause a lot of collateral damage.

"So how was my performance? I think I got a solid nine, if I do say so myself. You two probably got fours... no, actually, Big Bird was a one today." Tony gloated into the silence... and then he realized that people were probably always rude to him because he dished it out first. Oh well, wasn't his fault if they didn't know how to have fun.

"Stark, you're delusional if you think that train wreck deserved anything above a three." Barton returned. "And I definitely got better than a two. Without me, your little lapse in attention would have ruined the whole mission."

True, but Tony thought that he was doing pretty good staying focused considering that, last he checked, there was a god suffering from a massive panic attack in his garage. And since Fury just had to call at the inopportune time, now he had to come up with a legitimate excuse of why someone was screaming bloody murder in his house... maybe Fury would just think he had been watching a movie? A realistic, engaging movie. Or, better yet, he'd forget the entire incident and Tony can just not worry about the whole situation.

But obviously things can never work out that.

"Speaking of which, Director Fury wants to know what was happening when he called you." Romanov cut in smoothly, like she wasn't saying something that could very well screw everything up, and Tony was so glad the suit's mask hide his 'oh crap' expression. Without the barrier, he knew the spies would have no problem extracting any information they needed from the length of his eyelashes or something crazy like that.

Still, they didn't need a visual to be effective, either. But Tony would be damned if he messed this up and compromised the safety of Loki. The other man trusted him, and Tony refused to allow SHIELD to come after the traumatized god.

"I didn't know what you mean, sweetheart." He denied, trying to keep his voice as casual as possible even though they both knew it was an obvious lie. However, the less he acted like he had something big to hide, the less they would feel compelled to actually come knocking.

"Stark," Romanov warned, "That wasn't a suggestion. Fury demands an answer."

Just as Tony was about to give her the movie excuse (or maybe say he was doing some real intense role-playing?), Jarvis spoke up on the private speaker.

"Sir, there has been a change in the condition of your guest."

Tony felt his stomach clench. That could go one of two ways, and it normally was the undesirable one. "Good change or bad change?" He really wasn't close enough if something was seriously wrong... he never should have left.

But then Jarvis's reply assuaged his fears, and Tony felt like he could breathe again. "Good change, sir. Loki is now aware of his surroundings and has asked me for an update."

'Update' being Jarvis doing a quick run through for Loki of anything important that has happened while he was out of it. Normally Tony would do it, but as he's had to fill the role of Iron Man more and more his AI has had to be there for the god instead. But if Loki was asking for one, that meant he had enough control of his mind to be aware of his surroundings, which Tony wasn't going to complain about.

"Alright, thank you. Now reopen the main line." He'd have liked to know more, like whether or not Loki looked particularly upset, but there was another conversation waiting for him.

"I'm sorry, beautiful. Jarvis just had an important update about my lovely device down there. What were you saying?"

Tony could hear Romanov's hesitation at that as she tried to decide whether or not to pursue Fury's line of questioning or figure out if there was something major she should know about the AYBABTU. Finally, she picked the priority.

"Is there something wrong with the device? If it poses a risk to SHIELD agents, we need to know."

Going to press conferences and dealing with his board has made Tony an expert at coming up with stories on the fly, and he had no problem implementing that particular skill here. "It looks like the EMP was slightly damaged in the drop, and it isn't going to last the expected twelve hours. I'm not sure how much longer it has, so the robot needs to be dismantled and secured as soon as possible unless you want it to explode in someone's face."

There. That wasn't a complete lie (Tony really wasn't sure if the device would last as long as he expected, because it already proved to not work quite as calculated), and it'd force Romanov to divert her attention from him if she wanted to make sure the Doombot wasn't going to wreak havoc on SHIELD.

Over the line, Tony could faintly here Romanov as she shouted for people to back away from the robot unless they were absolutely necessary in moving it. He directed himself towards where the SHIELD agents were congregated, breaking away from where he was scouting the perimeter. An enlarged picture on the screen of the HUD showed Romanov occupied with relaying the information she had from Tony, and he smirked at his success.

"Well, it looks like you guys are all busy now, so I guess I'll get going. Unlike you two, I happen to live on the other side of the country and would like to get home sometime today."

Both Romanov and Barton started protesting, but Tony had Jarvis cut the line and his helmet filled with silence. Checking once more that the area was clear (no reason to let his darling project get ruined because he was impatient and didn't follow protocol), Iron Man put his repulsors on max and wasted no time getting out of there.

He wasn't completely lying when he said it took a while to get home. Commuting between the East Coast and his Californian home was a pain, and normally he'd have stayed in Stark Tower for a few weeks when there was an increase in activity. However, with an illegal alien under his care, he couldn't just bring the other man right under Fury's nose and expect to get away with it (and leaving said alien alone in Malibu while he was away in New York wasn't an option either. An unstable god left alone for a week just sounded like a very bad idea).

So Tony had to content himself with flying across the United States on a relative basis, grateful that his arc reactor was energy efficient and that he didn't have to suffer the wrath of environmentalists for wasting valuable fossil fuels. Though one good thing that came out of his ridiculous commutes was that he had plenty of time to just stop and think, instead of going through life doing the very first thing that came to mind.

Once he was far enough from New York that there wasn't a risk of his communications system being listened in on (because no doubt they will try, since he just dangled a bone in front of them and they'd not be a master spying organization if they just ignored it), he finally asked the questions that had been burning him the whole day.

"How is he really, Jarvis? What's he doing right now?"

"Loki is currently in the process of reading. He seems relatively calm, though he is a bit restless. Would you like a visual, sir?"

"Yeah, that'd be good."

Tony felt kind of like some creepy stalker when an image of his lab came up on the HUD, but in this situation the obsessive monitoring wasn't really unfounded. Especially when his eyes locked on Loki, curled up tightly in a chair with one hand flipping the pages of a book and the other clutching at Dum-E. The robot hovered close to the god, like some perverted kind of guardian angel, and Loki was holding onto him like he was a lifeline. Not good.

He glanced towards the book for a moment, glad to see that it was actually being flipped through and not just stared at blankly while Loki's mind was a universe away.

Because Tony couldn't keep his guest distracted all the time, even if he wanted too, he'd taken to having the man read whatever books he had lying around. Loki had accepted the diversion easily, and read any time he wasn't interacting with Tony or, on rare occasion, sleeping. He sometimes even had his nose in a book while eating or walking through the hallways. Not that the engineer minded, since it was better than the alternative –blank eyes, panicked breathing, frightened screams –but it did mean the sparse collection he had ran out in only a few days.

Seeing as the Asgardian liked to write in the books as he flipped through, he ordered over a hundred printed books in multiple scientific subjects he thought his bookworm friend would enjoy. Though a sad side effect of the man's habit was that now some of Tony's thousand dollar, limited edition texts had indecipherable scrawl all over the margins (and by indecipherable, he didn't mean bad handwriting. The Norse God actually wrote in some form of old Norse mixed with runes, making a mess of symbols that even Jarvis couldn't wade through.). Loki even crossed entire sections out, apparently disagreeing with whatever theory was presented and not even finding it worth the right to grace the page.

But they did their job, and anything that kept Loki grounded for longer was a good thing. Though Tony knew they wouldn't work forever, because while the god may be content to just sit and recover for now, he was bound to get agitated eventually and Tony would have to think of something better.

Then Tony finally quit stalling (it was so hard to see Loki distraught, knowing he could only do so much to help) and focused his full attention on the god himself.

He was... better than Tony had been expecting. Dark shadows clung to Loki's eyes, standing out all the more on the man's pale face. His fingers dug into Dum-E as if the god were lost in a storm and the robot was the only thing keeping him ashore, and the hand resting on the book twitched while he read, spasmodically clenching into a fist like he was preparing for a fight. The man seemed haunted, constantly pursued by the monsters in his head.

But he wasn't in their grasp at the moment. Tony could see the stress and the hollow despair written all over Loki's every move, yet the violent terror and unyielding blankness were gone for now.

"Do you think he'll be okay until I come home?" Tony asked, even though he couldn't do anything no matter the answer.

"Sir, he has been improving over the past few hours. By that pattern, he should be okay unless something happens to set him back." Which sounded easy enough to avoid, but so many things aggravated that bag of cats inside Loki's brain. Darkness, silence, and the color blue were just the most common that Tony ran into.

"Well make sure something doesn't. Tell him I'll be back in a few hours."

Tony waited just long enough to see his message delivered (Loki instantly relaxed a bit more- Tony didn't realize just how tense the god had been until then -and his lips moved as he said something back to Jarvis) before turning off the display.

He flew about another hundred miles out when Jarvis informed him of an incoming call, a picture of Pepper popping up on the screen this time. Tony smiled, and immediately said, "Put her through." He waited until he heard the telltale click of the line connecting before continuing. "Hey, how's my favorite assistant? What can I do for ya this evening, darling?"

"Hello to you too, Tony." Came Pep's sweet voice, and Tony was pleased to note that she didn't sound very stressed this evening. An unfortunate side effect of putting her in charge of Stark Industries, as well as having her keep her job as his 'personal babysitter', was that she was often overworked. She still did an amazing job, though. "I was calling to ask if you wanted me to bring you dinner, but it sounds like your not home."

She definitely wasn't stressed if she was actually offering to bring him food. Too bad he had to turn the offer down.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I won't be home for at least another hour. If you already have the food, you can just drop it off and I'll eat it when I get back... Or you could see if Loki wants any since he's awake."

"Tony, we've been over this. As much as you trust him, I'm not going to go in the house alone with him."

He could hear the frown in her voice as she said this, but he didn't want to completely let the matter go. It had been well over two months since Loki first spoke, and still Pepper had reservations about him.

"Then how about you come over tomorrow morning with some breakfast. If he's not down the rabbit hole by then, you can actually talk to him properly. I'm telling you, he's not going to try and murder you. Besides, Jarvis would be looking out for you."

Pepper sighed. They'd had this discussion many times since Tony let the strange man into his home. She wasn't convinced, however. "I'll come over with food in the morning, alright?"

"Sure thing. We'll probably be hanging out in the lab, so just come and get us."

She laughed. "You say it like that's a surprise. I'd be more concerned if you said you'd be sleeping in your room, without some random girl."

Tony smiled. He had missed this easy relationship with Pep. Between him risking his life, her working hard to keep the company afloat, and all the dumb things he's done these past few years, things had gotten quite strained. Talking started to become a rarity, replaced instead by vicious arguments and tense silences. Yet the past few months, things seemed to be going right between them. He had forgotten how much he needed her friendship, how much she meant in his life.

"I'll see you tomorrow then." She continued. "Don't blow yourself up in the mean time."

Tony scowled playfully even though she couldn't see it. "That was only one time. Sheesh, cross the wires wrong once and no one ever lets you live it down."

They both laughed, and why did he ever try and ruin this?

"Good night, Tony."

"Good night."

The line clicked dead, but on a good note- unlike before, where it signaled the end of an argument- and Tony was left alone in the sky.

-o-o-o-

It was over an hour before Tony was in view of his house again (he still couldn't shake the apprehension he now felt whenever he got close to it, half expecting someone else to come falling out of the sky). By the time he set down the sun was already setting, meaning he had once again spent the entire day away from home. He had intended to spend the day with Loki, because it was never a good idea to leave the god unintended on a bad day, and this morning had definitely been bad, but then Fury just had to call in.

He was home now though, and there was no reason to delay farther when Loki needed him. Tony bypassed the landing pad on his roof, instead heading straight over towards the garage and, by extension, his lab.

When he reached the glass door separating the garage and his sanctuary, he could see the top of Loki's head from where the god was nestled in the large plush chair (Tony had bought heavily padded chairs for the man since before, when he was a walking skeleton, a hard chair just made him extremely uncomfortable. Even now Loki preferred things that were soft, probably because they were easier on his sense of touch).

Smiling softly, Tony removed his glove so he could punch in the access code. Music drifted in through the open door and the thick metal of his helmet, quiet and unhurried. He has heard more classical music in the past few weeks than he has in his entire life before.

When Tony took a loud, clanky step, green eyes immediately swerved from the word laden pages to Iron Man's golden mask. He tried to not focus too much on the sheer relief that was evident in those eyes, instead casually strolling (or at least as casual as one could while walking in a hundred million dollar metal suit) through the room to stand beside Loki. The mask slid upward as he leaned over the back of the chair to peer at the textbook sitting carefully on the male man's lap.

"How far did you get this time? And you know, I'm pretty sure you have the Guinness World Record on speed reading beat by a mile."

It was best to act normal around Loki when the god was aware, to not highlight his shortcomings. Loki tried really, really hard to act as if nothing was wrong, and Tony wasn't going to mess that up for him. At least not until Loki was more stable.

"I... Midgard's physics theories are very fascinating, even though they are lacking." Loki closed the book he was reading and swiftly stood up, graceful in his movements despite the weakness that lingered in his limbs. Tony straightened as well, amused at his guests imperious attitude. Normally such impertinence would aggravate him (unless he was the source of it), but in this case it was heartening; Loki only acted high and mighty when he was feeling relatively normal. It was when the other man was polite and timid that Tony knew a mental fit was imminent.

"Hey now, we can't all be magic wizards with an intimate understanding of the universe."

Tony had finally gotten that talk about magic he was looking for, and it had made him realize just how little humans actually knew. Loki had explained the difference between the Nine Realms and Midgard, how the Realms existed in a separate plane of existence then the space Earth is a part of. Midgard was connected to the other realms by Yaggsdril, making it a crucial pathway between actual galaxies and their metaphysical kingdoms. The magic Loki and other spellcasters used most often came from the tree, and as such they could only use the small amount of magic they possessed naturally when outside of its influence. Even so, the energy they harnessed from Yaggsdril was as much science as the technology used on Earth and the solar systems beyond.

At that particular point, Tony had stubbornly denied that magic was the same as science, as their laws of physics and matter did not allow for shape-shifting or teleportation. Loki then explained the Skrull, who lived in Andromeda and could naturally assume the forms of others even without magic. He also possessed the ability to shift free of magic, as it was a genetic ability. As for teleporting, other galaxies had already mastered that as well. Earth had a primitive understanding of the way the universe worked as far as other intergalactic civilizations were concerned.

That point in particular had gotten Tony wound up. "Wait, so you're saying Earth is some back-water dump? Like, all my technology is child's play compared to some aliens out there? That's so not cool."

Loki's response hadn't really made him feel better about it, either. "You forget that compared to most civilized species, yours is extremely young and short lived. When you look at it that way, humans have made tremendous progress over the last millennium, and even more in the last century."

Basically meaning that to everyone else out there, humans were considered babies. But it did raise a question he hadn't even considered before. "If eighty years is considered short... how old are you, exactly?"

When Loki replied that he was over a thousand years old in the same way someone would say they were thirty, it had made Tony really understand that Loki was different from humans. Loki was an alien from a world where turning into a horse was normal and being gutted was just a nuisance. He had lived longer than Tony could even comprehend and in that time had learned of things Tony hadn't even known existed.

("But there's so much I don't remember. I know I should, but... It's just... It isn't_ there,_" Loki had confessed once, during a fit- the only time the god ever really said anything about himself.)

Talking to Loki for extended periods of time had also made something else clear to Tony. When his mind started to decay, Loki would sometimes just stop talking, a few minutes later picking up wherever he had left off as if nothing had happened. Other times he spoke haltingly, or said the wrong words, like it had been a very long time since he actually conversed with anyone.

And yet, despite the patchy quality of his speech, it was obvious that the god had known what he was talking about. Loki had been brilliant, and Tony was no magic guru, but he was pretty sure he got one of the most comprehensive Magic 101 courses there was.

Loki interrupted Tony's reflection, "I'm going to need more books soon." He spoke softly, because Loki always talked softly (at least when he wasn't screaming or shouting). "These aren't... sufficient anymore."

"Sufficient how? They aren't hard enough, or..." Or they just aren't enough to keep the darkness out of your mind, and you need something else to keep you from going off the deep end?

"They are...not as helpful as they once were." And Tony knew then that he wasn't talking about the educational content.

"I'll find something better, I promise." There has to be something that will keep Loki grounded, and Tony will figure out what it is. If he can keep Loki from falling, he will.

For now though, he'd just have to stick with the books and hope a change in content would be enough. Maybe he'd throw some Shakespeare in with the next order as a joke. If he was lucky, the god would actually appreciate the lewd humor and gaudy sonnets. Or not, because Loki never smiled at any of Tony's jokes; he didn't smile at anything.

("Depression," Pepper had said).

"You up for helping me a bit? I was planning on finishing the frame for the Mark Forty-Three tonight." It was a labor intensive job, one Tony normally had Dum-E or the other robots help him on, and it wouldn't compromise the security of the Iron Man suits. Showing the god the suit when he couldn't walk two feet without assistance was a bit different than letting him work on the designs while he was fully aware... but at the same time, Tony did trust Loki, and certainly helping out on designing stuff would be a far superior distraction than books. Tinkering around with machines was what Tony used to keep himself together, after all.

Storing the idea in the back of his mind to review later, he waited for Loki to make his decision. The god nodded after a moment and placed his book on the desk Tony had gotten for him, contributing to the ever growing pile. Then he turned towards Tony, hands fidgeting now that they were no longer occupied.

"When do we start?"

"Just let me take this suit off and we can jump right into it. Jarvis?"

"Already on it, sir." The landing dock opened up to accept the suit, while the displays opened up with the suit schematics.

While he was heading over to get the suit of, Tony realized he was forgetting something important. "Hey Dum-E! Grab me a drink from the fridge!"

Out of the suit and armed with an alcoholic beverage, Tony wasted no time in getting right to work. He pulled the sheets of gold-titanium alloy out of storage and turned on the welding torch. Loki stood close by his side, helping with small things and learning how the different tools worked. He caught on quickly, and soon he was taking over welding some of the simpler pieces while Tony prepped the more complex ones.

The two worked well into the night, finishing far more than Tony could have done on his own. The engineer kept an eye on Loki while they worked, in case the god was getting overwhelmed or unengaged, but he seemed fine. More than fine, actually. He didn't seem as stressed as he normally was, and he maintained focus for a lot longer than he normally did. Were it not for the dead look in Loki's eyes, Tony would have said it looked like nothing was even wrong.

Eventually, though, that peace started to fade. Loki began to zone out, and in one instance Tony had to lunge across the work table to keep the god from accidentally burning himself. But he kept at it, trying to continue even though his mind was working against him. Tony relegated him to making outlines on the sheets of metal so he wouldn't get hurt, but let it be.

It wasn't until the god seriously started to slow down that Tony put an end to it. It wasn't so much that he wanted Loki to stop working but that if the god kept this up, he was only going to get frustrated. Tony had been watching the god for a few minutes (not even trying to be discreet about it, because Loki didn't have enough attention to realize it while trying to work at the same time) and Loki's face just kept getting darker and darker each time his hands slipped or his mind wandered. He even started muttering to himself, a broken cadence that Tony couldn't understand from where he was standing.

"Hey Loki, it's getting late...well, early. Why don't we stop for now?"

Loki looked like he was about to protest, to insist that he was fine, he could keep going, but then he slumped slightly in defeat. He knew he was becoming useless. His fingers knotted themselves in his hair, tugging harshly at the scalp. An angry sound escaped his lips, and Tony was sure that behind the bravado was despair.

Normally he tried to maintain distance when Loki was awake, because he knew the other didn't appreciate being coddled, but before Tony could stop himself he had moved next to Loki. He reached up to pull hands -shaking just slightly, and still so pale, so gaunt -away from where they were digging into Loki's head. Watery green eyes looked up in surprise and Loki pulled back slightly. Tony shook his head and held on.

'Let me help you,' he wanted to say. 'It's okay for people to help you sometimes.'

But he kept his silence, letting his actions speak for him as he thumbed away the single tear that managed to break free. He stood, supportive, while Loki pulled himself back together- or at least as much as he could while the god's mind was crumbling away inside of his skull.

"I hate it." Loki whispered suddenly, fists clenching. "I can... feel it, in my mind. It's like... I don't have control anymore." Tony didn't know what to say to that, or whether he was expected to respond at all. But as the silence grew, and a few more tears slipped down pale cheeks, he decided he had to say something.

"I'm not going to say it's okay, because it isn't. That's a lie that people try to tell you when they don't want to admit the world isn't all sunflowers and daisies. But you have to believe that one day it will be. If not now, then someday." And despite his general pessimism, Tony did believe that to be true. The world moved on, bringing both tragedies and miracles. You just had to keep moving forwards and leave your legacy.

Loki didn't reply and they stood in companionable silence for a few minutes longer. Then Tony pulled away, gently nudging Loki towards the stairs. Adopting his usual boisterous tone, Tony asked, "Have you ever seen a movie before? Actually, that was a stupid question. You haven't. Well, better late than never."

He led his guest upstairs towards the living room, with it's giant plasma screen. They walked by the wall-length windows that were blocked off by thick emerald curtains, spanning the entire wall and hiding the view outside. Tony missed seeing the expansive ocean, but it had been necessary. Loki had told him he hated the blue, that it made it harder to think. Well... by told, Tony means he had screamed the equivalent of that statement in a fit of hysterics, sending a bar stool through one of the large glass panes while he was at it. It hadn't been too hard after that to figure out that his see-through walls were not going to be suitable. At least his bedroom hadn't needed to be covered.

Pushing Loki into one of the couches, Tony made a quick detour to go get a drink before slouching into the cushion beside the god. "Jarvis, you lead movie night. Pick something decent."

He poured himself a generous glass of scotch while the TV turned on, launching straight into opening credits. While the movie started, Tony turned to talk to his guest, who was perched uncomfortably in the chair, tense and anxious.

"Movies are generally the go to for mindless entertainment. Normally you'd eat popcorn while watching, but I find alcohol to be an excellent substitute. It makes even the worse films tolerable."

While Tony had been learning about magic these past few weeks, Loki had been getting a crash course in Midgardian pop culture. Tony couldn't deny being thoroughly amused whenever Asgardian tripped over simple statements like "chip on the shoulder" or "piece of cake" (to which Loki had responded, "I fail to see what a Midgardian desert has to do with this"). He adapted easily though, and like with the equipment in the lab, he acted like he'd lived here his entire life (he put Rogers to shame. It had taken Captain America a long time to acclimate to the 21st century).

The screen came alive with choreographed violence and explosions, more action than plot. Which was fine. Neither Tony nor Loki had the mindset to pay attention to any details at the moment. Instead, the genius barely focused on the movie while he sipped at his drink (he forgot that Pepper would be over soon to see that he had been drinking, but no point in stopping now that he has started) and watched Loki from the corner of his eye.

The other man was twitchy on his side of the couch, looking vaguely like a puppy that was trying to resist falling asleep. He'd zone out, staring at the screen unblinking until something in the film blew up, the flare and bang startling him back into awareness. It was obvious how hard Loki was trying to keep awake, but it didn't look like he'd last for the several hours before morning. Which was a shame, because Tony was hoping to finally get the two to talk so Pepper would see that Loki wasn't going to bite her if she came over while he was away.

Yet to Tony's surprise, Loki was still responsive one under-budgeted action film later when Jarvis alerted him to Pepper's arrival. Then Tony was suddenly nervous, because this would be it. If Pepper talked to Loki (though how much of a conversation the god could hold at the moment was another problem) and didn't like him, it would make things at his Malibu estate a lot more tense then they had to be. Loki also seemed to share his apprehension, though probably not for quite the same reasons. Since falling here all those months ago, the only person he had consciously interacted with was Tony. Even if you counted when he was out of it, that'd only add one more person to the list. He hadn't exactly been mister social butterfly.

He had to start somewhere though, so Tony clamped down on his nerves and ushered Loki up from where he had been curled up on the sofa. "I wonder what Pepper brought... It better not be some absolutely disgusting health food. I want calories and fat after all my hard work." He situated them both in the kitchen, then realized he had left his drinks lying around and went to hide the evidence of that.

Not even a minute passed before the sharp clack of heels on tile alerted him to Pepper's presence. The red-head came around the corner just a moment later, arms laden with boxes of food.

She opened her mouth to say something to Tony when her eyes slid towards Loki, who was watching her like he was a deer caught in the headlights. Caught off guard, she took another moment to remember that she was about to speak.

"Oh, hello." She set the boxes down in front of Tony with a quick, 'you can thank me later' before turning her attention back to the Norse God. "I'm Virginia Potts, but Tony just calls me Pepper."

She began to extend her hand for a handshake before she seemed to reconsider and aborted the motion, smoothing down her sleek skirt instead. Loki, eyes wide, just stared at her for a few moments before finally getting a response together.

"I am Loki. It... is a pleasure to finally meet you."

Deciding that the two could manage without his immediate intervention for a bit, Tony diverted some of his attention to the bakery boxes that had been set before him. He recognized the label as being the small, family owned store in town that made the best tasting fritters and croissants. Trying to be unobtrusive as Pepper and Loki stare awkwardly at each other, one not sure what to say and the other not quite 'down to Earth', he opened the box and drooled a bit at what was inside.

"It's nice to actually talk to you as well. I hope Tony hasn't been driving you up the wall. He can be a bit much at times."

Tony took a large bite of one of the cherry fritters, closing his eyes in bliss. He happily lost himself in the vibrant flavors, glad that he wasn't involved in the sad conversation going on at the other side of the table. Sugary baked goods were much better. Especially when Loki took way too long to respond, brain running slower than a snail building a nuclear weapon.

"Stark has been... more than adequate. I... am glad to have fallen... here of all places." It made Tony's brain feel fuzzy just listening to their train crash of a discussion.

Pepper made a polite noise of agreement, then shot Tony a look. 'What do I say?' He acted like he didn't see it, instead making an obnoxious moaning sound as he started on another flaky treat from heaven. She reflexively fixed her clothing again, smiling automatically despite her discomfort.

"That's good. I brought breakfast this morning, if you'd like any. I got you something that was bland, since Tony said you preferred that."

When Loki just stared at her blankly, Tony finally decided to intervene. He grabbed one of the boxes he hadn't opened yet and put it in front of the god, shaking his shoulder slightly to get his attention. Eyes sluggishly dragged themselves from Pepper's face to Tony's, and he knew Loki only had a few minutes left at most.

"Eat those now. It'll probably be a while before you get a chance to eat otherwise." Once Loki opened the box and picked out a piece of plain toast -Tony was glad he didn't get stuck with eating toast as well, in the spirit of 'equality' or something silly like that- the billionaire turned towards Pep.

"Are you going to join us? Come on, have a french pastry." She looked hesitantly at Loki, but the man was listlessly picking at his food and didn't even notice. "Don't worry about him. He's going to blink out in a minute. I think this is actually the longest he's been aware. Jarvis, how long did he manage?"

"Twenty-one hours, sir."

"Look at that- three hours more than last time. Though he'll probably take a few days to get back again. Now come on, have a croissant. You're making me feel fat not eating." Tony slid the remaining box over to Pepper, feeling victorious when she opened it and joined him in the appreciation of well-made baked goods.

"He's not always like that, is he? You told me he's really smart, but..." Tony glanced over to Loki, who it seems finally went under, fingers still lightly gripping a mutilated piece of bread while he stared blankly in front of him. Definitely not the image of poise or intelligence.

"Nah, he's normally quite articulate, if a bit absent minded." Tony reached over to release the toast from Loki's hands, giving it a cursory check over before shrugging and sticking the rest of it in his mouth. Then he grabbed some napkins that Pepper had supplied and cleaned gritty residue from pale fingers. "You just happened to come over when he was at the end of his wire. One of these days you'll catch him on a good day. Then you could play chess with him or something- the guys scary good at it, by the way. I only beat him once, while I was teaching him how to play. Then he kicked my ass."

"From what you told me of him, I kind of expected him to be more like you, but he isn't. He seems very polite." Meaning Tony wasn't polite... ouch, burn.

"I'll have you know I can be polite if I tried. I just don't think it's worth the effort." Judging by the smile he was getting, Pepper didn't believe him... Oh well, he didn't believe himself either. But it was worth a try. "Well, he is known for his 'silver tongue', so smooth talking is probably not beyond him... nor are more nefarious things, if one wants to interpret that differently..."

Pepper glared at him (hey, he's a guy and playboy number one, he can't help it), but he raised his hands in surrender and got back on topic. "He's actually snarky when he's feeling good. Quite the drama queen." Or he does the reverse and is all doom and gloom, with some violent hysterics thrown in there. Saying such would probably not help his case, however.

"He doesn't seem bad... He hasn't done anything violent since he's been here? You trust him?" She glanced at Loki again, most likely feeling weird talking about the guy when he was sitting right there. Tony had no such qualms however, as he knew Loki didn't remember what happened while he was out of it.

"Pep, if I didn't trust him he wouldn't be in my house sitting at my table. I've spent almost half a year with him, and believe me when I say the most destructive thing he's done is crush a chair by going Transformers on it." If one didn't also take into consideration the annihilated car, shattered window, or fist sized holes in the floor, then yeah, that's the worst he's done. But Loki wasn't himself during those times, and Tony wouldn't hold it against him.

She sighed, relenting. "Alright, I'll go with you on this. I don't think he's a threat."

Tony whooped at that and pumped his fists, acting like a kid who just got free reign of the toy store. Pepper reached over and gave his shoulder an admonishing slap, and he scowled at her while she just smirked playfully back.

"What? It was a perfectly justified thing to do." Then he grinned. "Well, if you're okay with him, then you're on Loki duty when I'm away. Remember to feed him, give him water, and take him for walks." He ticked each point off on his fingers.

"Tony, I'm your babysitter, not his."

Tony pouted. "Aww, Pep. You know you've always wanted to watch after a god. Imagine having that on your resume. I'd hire you in an instant."

She laughed, "You've already hired me. Now I technically outrank you." Then she stood up, pushing back the pastry box he'd given her back. "I have to go. Tell Loki it was nice meeting him. I'm traveling to New York this afternoon, but I'll be back in a few days. Stay out of trouble until then?"

With Tony's affirmative, she headed back out, the click-clack of her shoes fading into silence. Tony then realized he had forgotten to thank her for the food... oh well, he'd just buy her something nice later to show his appreciation.

He plopped a donut hole into his mouth and turned to Loki. "I guess it's just you and I now..."

All he got in return was a blank stare.

"...Yeah, you know what, scratch that. I'm going out and partying."


	5. Chapter 5

"_Humble and helpless,  
Learning to pray,  
Praying for visions to show me the way.  
Show me the way to forgive you,  
Allow me to let it go,  
Allow me to be forgiven._

_Illuminate me,_  
_I'm just praying for you to show me,_  
_Where I'm to begin,_  
_Hoping to reconnect to you_."

-o-o-o-

Operation 'Find a Way to Engage Loki' began once Tony came back from his recent bought of debauchery. It was at once both an easy task and a monumental one.

Tony knew what would help Loki. The god needed the balm of creation- of intertwining wires and machinated gears. He needed to funnel his thoughts into something productive so his mind would stop decaying. Tony knew this, and he knew he could provide it... but he hesitated.

To let Loki work in his lab, to unleash his mind upon raw elements in order to make something beautiful, would mean letting Loki access his files. It would mean revealing secrets to the god, secrets that Tony never wanted anyone to know- not after Afghanistan. Not after Stane.

It wasn't that Tony didn't trust Loki, because he did. How could he not, when he's spent months rebuilding the fallen god piece by piece? Even if Loki rarely talked about himself, even if he was still as much of a stranger as when he first fell through the roof, Tony knew him more intimately then he did anyone else. And if there was just one thing Tony knew for sure, it was that Loki would never betray him. Not after everything that happened between them.

He still hesitated. Hadn't he thought Obid- Stane would never betray him, as well? Yet he did, absolutely and completely. The man he considered a second father, who had stood by his side for years, threw him into the dark, burning earth, and Tony would never forget it. That broken trust still haunted him, almost a decade later, and it wasn't going anywhere soon.

So when it came to letting someone back in, he balked. With the threat of perfidy looming overhead, he didn't want to open himself to that risk.

But Tony was being selfish. Horribly, disgustingly selfish. Here he was, withholding help from Loki, all because he was angry at Stane. Loki, who had done nothing to harm Tony. Loki, who depended on Tony to help him because the god had no one else to turn to.

Loki, who was mindless wandering through the room while Tony sat and watched- guzzling down his drink every time he caught a glimpse of glassy eyes, because he couldn't stand the twist of guilt inside him.

He clutched the bottle until his knuckles turned white and took one last gulp of beer, distantly hoping it would take the problem away. It didn't. Tony had to make this decision on his own- to feed his demons... or Loki's.

The decision should be easy. For months he sacrificed himself to help the god, even though at times he felt like he would crumble under the weight. What made this time any different?

(Stane, ripping Tony's metal heart from his chest and leaving him to die. The feeling of drowning, surfacing only to hear demands in a language he didn't understand. Gun fire all around him, the image of Yinsen's dead body clawing at his mind. Things he could never let happen again.)

It wasn't that Tony didn't understand the sheer desperation in which Loki went at any distraction presented to him, because he did. He's been right there before, trying to undo the fear and pain by reassuring himself that he still had control of his mind. But unlike him, Loki doesn't have control. Not really.

Were Tony to come back from Afghanistan and find that he could no longer create an arc reactor, or even perform simple maintenance on one of his cars, he'd be disgusted with himself. Because take away his brain, what was he?

A superhero? That's only possible because of the suit, which would have remained in science fiction if he hadn't had to intelligence to make it a reality.

A billionaire? He spent his inheritance a long time ago, and the money he made came from the things he could create with his mind. And if he wasn't a billionaire, he would be a philanthropist either, which crosses out that as well.

The really just left him with playboy, which… wasn't quite the same when you weren't the Tony Stark, engineer extraordinaire.

If Loki really was depressed, then Tony would be a fool to deny him the one thing that made him feel worthy. Loki needed this just as much as he had needed to be tube fed, if not more.

"Jarvis, what do you think about having Loki work with us on projects?"

"I think that is an excellent idea, sir."

And that was that. So despite his personal misgivings, Tony let Loki into the lab, giving him a wide range of access and letting him create. They worked side by side, designing new suits and magic sensors, blending the magic that Loki knew with Tony's advanced engineering

If anyone else knew he was letting the God of Mischief, a familiar unknown, work on million dollar equipment, they'd probably say he was insane. Honestly, sometimes he had to resist the self-centered urge to put an end to it as well, when the other man scrolled through his server as if he owned the place (so much like Stane it set Tony on edge: made his teeth grind and his fingers itch for the feel of a glass bottle). Jarvis did keep files blocked, it wasn't like Tony was a naïve idiot, but it was still a plethora of information that was available with just a quick touch of a pale fingertip.

But he didn't stop it, because beyond his ingrained doubt, he truly did not think it was a risk.

Loki absorbed everything he saw, committed it to memory and made the information his own, but Tony knew all he was doing was filling the gaps of his knowledge and expanding what he did know. Not once did the god try to look through files to find old designs for weapons of mass destruction, and the projects of Tony's he looked and copied he just tinkered with, applying equations that Tony didn't recognize to the preexisting structure.

Sometimes a plan didn't work right, or the information didn't click, even though Loki was convinced it would. During those times Loki would get upset, turning either towards anger or despair. But even then, the positive change in Loki was obvious. He spent longer time periods aware, sometimes managing days instead of hours, and when he worked his anxiety faded. It made Tony feel ashamed and guilty to think that he had tried to deny the god this sanctuary.

Which brought them here, with Loki rising in relief when Iron Man stepped into the lab, returned from another grueling brawl with Doom. His armor was covered in dust, soot, and deep scratches- testament to the increasing threat the robots were becoming, even with all the data SHIELD uncovered.

Loki walked over to Tony, bare feet a quiet contrast to the suit's metallic steps, and tilted his head slightly as he considered the damage done to the red and gold.

"You are harmed?" He asked, frown deepening when he caught sight of the scorched dent adorning the armor's side.

"Nah, most of this is just surface damage." Tony reassured him. "I'm just a bit bruised, which...I'm starting to think I just naturally have purple spots. They never go away." When talking to Loki, Tony use to have to force himself like everything was normal. Now on good days, there wasn't even any need to pretend.

Loki nodded slightly then stepped back, heading over towards the main work table. "If you are not hurt, then let's begin." Which Tony knew wasn't meant to sound callous, and instead simply meant, 'I'm starting to slip, so can we please start working before I turn into a mindless zombie again?'.

At first, the engineer tried to set it up so Loki could work on stuff under Jarvis's guidance, even when Tony wasn't here, but... One near death experience later (or what would be near death for a human. Tony had no desire to see just how far the god's 'immortality' went), Tony and Loki both agreed that it was better if he just waited. That time, if Dum-E had been just one second slower in pulling Loki back, then losing focus would have been the least of their problems.

"Cool your jets, princess. Let me put this up and we can get started." Tony stepped onto the dock and let Jarvis dismantle the suit, taking it down into the underground storage the billionaire had dedicated to his growing collection. Waiting by the armor they were currently working on, Loki's fingers twitched impatiently by his sides. When Tony finally joined him, Loki wasted no time in getting started.

"The repulsors. Your version takes too long to charge enough to do a lot of damage. If you stored the energy within the glove, you could have it fire blasts you stored previously." Ever the quick learner, the god pulled up one of Tony's holographic work boards, flicking through the images of the suit they were working on to home in on the gloves. He enlarged the wrist and stripped off the top layer, revealing the mechanism of the energy system. Tony stood beside him, curious to see what idea Loki had come up with this time.

Reaching over Loki's shoulder, Tony rotated the schematics that were before him. "Where would the energy be stored? Adding extra weight won't help with reaction time, and if the energy needs to be called back up then it wouldn't really be an improvement."

Loki flicked the wrist design away from Tony's hands and then opened another file. On the screen was a close up photo of a dark blue and grey crystal, speckled through with color. A caption to the side identified it as opal. "With a few enchantments and preparations, this could be used to absorb a large amount of energy, both direct and excess." He twisted the picture into a large ring and, pulling the model forwards, put the circle around the repulsor. Then he offered the design back to Tony, who stepped around Loki to peer at the change more critically.

"You'll have to explain the science of that one to me. How is a cheap mineral going to both hold and channel the energy that comes from the arc reactor?" After a few more twists of the rough idea he was offered, he noticed another problem. "And how thick is it going to be? Because the new repulsor models are inside the hand portion, and if it is any larger it will arrest movement of the wrist and fingers."

"Opal is well known by sorcerers for its ability to collect energy. It's normally used in rituals where more energy is required than the mage can output at once, so they charge the crystals beforehand to have the right amount to complete the spell. It also lacks affinity, so it would work with any energy you try channeling through it. As for size, it wouldn't need to be large if you only used it during battle. Something half a centimeter thick would be enough."

Working with Loki had taught Tony to appreciate many things he had considered wacky voodoo before, though sometimes the stuff coming out of the Asgardian's mouth just sounded like mystic crap. He'd seen enough demonstrations, however, of both conceptual and actual application of magic to believe the seemingly bogus things that Loki talked about.

"Okay, so if I went with something like this, what exactly would be the difference? Would it take energy from blasts I was trying to actually use? How would I activate it, and could Jarvis also control it manually? Would it backfire if I went past the limit?" Mind churning, Tony fired off questions as they appeared, trying to figure out if the changes would work. It sounded plausible.

To think, months ago he didn't even believe magic was real. Now he was working on integrating it into his suits.

The two discussed the changes well into the night, casually flicking through the schematics and pulling up equations to support their points. They finalized a design for opal-ringed repulsors, and then looked into ways to keep the whole suit working with back up energy separate from the main unit in case of an emergency.

They didn't stop working until midway through the next day, and for once they weren't stopping for Loki.

Tony blinked heavily, trying to clear up the blurring in his vision, but it didn't do anything to lighten his exhaustion. Tired limbs struggled to keep him moving, and he kept running into the corners of the desk. After the fourth time dropping the wrench he had been using, he finally said, "Alright, we need to take a break. I'm only human."

The god just tilted his head and stared at Tony, like the very idea of getting tired was foreign to him. Bastard. Tony knew he slept too... occasionally. Maybe once a month... It wasn't fair.

But Loki still conceded with a soft, "If you insist," and started cleaning up their mess. Once everything was put back into some semblance of organization, Tony dragged himself up the stairs while Loki followed close behind.

"I'm getting a quick snack before I go to bed. Want anything?" He asked while making a beeline towards the fridge.

"No, I am not in need of food." Which was bull, so after grabbing a sorbet Tony swung around and grabbed some oatmeal. He set the container in front of Loki, ignoring the god's stubborn frown.

"Look, princess. Remember our little chat? You need to eat at least once a day. I don't care if you don't want to, but until you start looking less like roadkill that's the deal." Loki glared at the offered box of instant oats like he wanted it to explode, but he eventually grabbed it and went over to the counter. Tony couldn't help but laugh- he's house trained a Norse god.

Then Jarvis's British voice suddenly came over the intercom, "Sir, there is an incoming message from Fury. There is also a low level hack attempt on my system."

"You aren't compromised, are you?" Jarvis replied in the negative. "Run the tighter firewall anyway, and then tell Fury unless it's an emergency I'm not talking to him."

"Yes sir." There was a pause and then, "I have canceled communications with Director Fury."

Sighing, Tony returned to his dessert. After the incident last month, Fury kept bugging him about it. Admittedly he wasn't trying that hard, but Tony knew it was only a matter of time before the SHIELD director lost his patience and pursued it seriously. He had until then to figure something out that would eliminate the chance of them trying to take Loki away from him, on the basis of being an unknown threat.

"They can hack Jarvis?" Tony turned towards Loki, whose brows were furrowed and his expression wary. His gaze nervously flittered from the ceiling to Tony then back up again, like the plaster was going to suddenly sprout eyes.

"Don't worry about it. No one can breach security. Isn't that right, Jarv?"

"My system has not been breached before."

"There, see? It's all good. Now go eat your oatmeal."

Loki continued glancing up at the ceiling while they ate, and Tony tried to ignore how the sight made his stomach clench. There was no need for him to worry. He was working on it- SHIELD would not take the Asgardian away from him.

All he needed was a plan, and then everything would be okay.

-o-o-o-

'_Genius Tony Stark Goes Missing in Afghanistan_'

'_Stark Industries Halting Weapons Manufacturing_'

'_Billionaire Tony Stark a Superhero?_'

Deft fingers flicked over the tablet's surface again, flitting over to the next article: '_Iron Man Triumphs Over the Mandarin_'. Darting green eyes quickly scanned the information before continuing on to another. A large mechanical arm peered over a bony shoulder to curiously watch the changing display.

"Is this every article relevant to Tony Stark and Iron Man?" Four more articles passed across the screen, titles all similar in nature: the great Iron Man defeats another wannabe villain. There was a suspicious lack of negative news pieces. No serious injuries, no failures. Nothing reporting on the darker side of being a warrior.

And nothing about who employed the superhero.

"Yes, sir. That is all the articles that matched your specific search parameters. Would you like me to run the search again?"

"No, that's fine." The mechanical arm got too close, smacking the tablet. Loki pushed Dum-E back, exasperated. "What did I say about personal space?" When the robot scooted back, he turned his attention back to the documents. "Does Stark control what is written about him? These articles are all biased." And biased information was useless information as far as Loki was concerned. He wouldn't learn what he needed to from these public documents.

"Mr. Stark does not personally screen the media, but there are others who do it for him." Jarvis answered vaguely, and Loki hummed in response; if he wanted to know the truth, he had to go to the source- Jarvis wasn't authorized to give him the information he needed.

Iron Man. SHIELD. Director Fury.

Loki knew they were connected, knew that this 'Fury' was the one who gave Stark orders, but that was it. There where other questions, important questions, that he had no answers to. Who was SHIELD? More importantly, why were they asking after him?

The call in the kitchen last week wasn't the only time Fury had tried to contact Stark recently. The superhero thought he was hiding it from Loki, but the god could hear him even when he was a few rooms away. Director Fury had asked about Loki- not by name, but last Loki checked he was Stark's only guest. Without knowing just who he was dealing with, Loki was at a disadvantage, and he refused to let it stay that way.

"Thank you for your assistance, Jarvis. I'm done with those files for now. Switch to the blueprints for 'Dragon Slayer'." Why Stark felt the need to call it that when it would never be used against a dragon (which the man hadn't even known actually existed until Loki mentioned that), he had no idea. It didn't really matter though, and if anything the name served as a good decoy for its actual purpose.

His tablet filled with detailed drawings of a small box covered in runes. He considered it for a moment before speaking again. "Actually, can you put the model on the main display?" What was on his tablet moved to the large hologram work board in the center of the room, details more clear on the bigger display. Pushing any lingering hesitation about what he was about to do out of his head, he stood from his seat and went over to the new set up, Dum-E following behind him.

It was important he acted casual. If Jarvis thought something was wrong with the god he'd alert Tony, and then Loki's spell wouldn't work. So instead of jumping straight into writing the required runes, he glanced back through the equations, reacquainting himself with what they had come up with so far.

That's when he noticed there had been changes and rewrites to a lot of the code. Changes he didn't remember but would have taken a few days at least.

"When did Stark work on this?" Loki asked- foolishly, because he already knew the answer. If he was only aware of one thing, it was his own incompetence.

"Those changes were made over the last week in response to discrepancies in the Doombot designs. Mr. Stark sought your assistance, but you were unavailable at the time." Unavailable: a pitiful euphemism for saying he was absolutely useless, crippled by his own traitorous mind.

"I want you to add a list of changes made to relevant codes in the update you give me. Note the reasons for why the alteration was necessary."

"Of course, sir. I will be sure to do that."

Loki hadn't ever thought he'd be appreciative of something that watched his every move, not after Heimdall, and yet he relied on Jarvis to do exactly that. When he snapped back out of the fog, the automated voice was always there if Stark wasn't to tell him how much time he had missed. What felt to him like only a moment would sometimes end up being an entire week, and without Jarvis he'd have no concept of time.

He was fond of the computer, certainly, which made him almost regret compromising the system to get at classified data. Almost. But if someone was going to come after him, he had to know everything he could to protect himself. It wasn't a matter of loyalties; it was survival.

Creating a spell that would fool the AI without harming it or leaving any trace had been difficult, though he knew it'd have been so very easy before _it_ happened (he wouldn't think of the void, he wouldn't. It only brought the fog, and he hated the fog- it needed to go away, he'd make it go away... yet it was always there).

But in the time his mind was his own he had planned and plotted, for what was the God of Lies if he didn't even know the truth? (A worthless Jotun pawn, and nothing more.)

With Jarvis tricked, it'd also be possible for him to leave the house without alerting anyone. Whether or not that was a smart plan was a different matter entirely. What if he blanked while he was away? He didn't always have a warning, and while he remained here (like a pet, tame and servile) he didn't have to worry about being in danger if he dropped off. Even if he didn't want to admit it, just leaving the premises was a risk. He knew that- Stark knew that- and so he remained locked away ("..._here, until you have use of me_").

Loki was proud, not stupid. It was safe here, and leaving would only put him in even more danger. Whatever was on Jarvis's server would have to be enough for now.

Having delayed long enough for his plan to work, Loki started tracing unrelated sigils on the display while making sure to look as if he were using the equations as a guide. Each rune shimmered heavily in the air, imbued with magic that pulsed every time he added another one. He walked in a circle; Dum-E followed close behind, occasionally stopping to inspect the glowing letters.

Jarvis made no complaint about the new symbols, and Loki took that to mean his ruse was working. He put some relevant runes in as well, supplementing the work done by Tony while he had been lost. Were every symbol he put false, it'd be more suspicious when he started erasing them all.

A few more symbols later, there was a complete glowing circle encasing the model. Loki double checked that everything was correct before he put his hand in the circle. Fingers glowed green as magic pooled into his hand, and then the color dissipated as the spell absorbed the energy. It flared brightly once, then dulled to a faint glow. He waited a moment to make sure everything had gone correctly before he spoke.

"Jarvis?"

There was no reply; the machine was silent.

Grinning at his success –mirthless, dark, the obligatory mask of a liar –he turned away from the sigils hanging in the air and picked up the tablet he had been using. The spell would only last for a few hours, fading away before Stark returned from his role as Iron Man. That way he wouldn't be caught if something went wrong before he could manually disassemble the spell,

AI diverted, Loki brought up his tablet and set to breaching the security. Goading the system into accepting his passage took only a few complex spells he'd been designing- Tony had no defenses against magic. Within minutes he was in the network, able to access what he needed.

Dum-E made a whirring noise, and Loki patted the robot absently. "We'll walk around later. I have work to do right now." He wasn't worried about what the robot saw. Tony wouldn't check its video feed unless he thought there was a need to, and with Jarvis subdued he'd have nothing to alert him.

(He ignored the part of his mind that whispered the real reason he kept from ensuring both were ensnared in magic: he didn't want to be alone, without anything that reacted to his presence. He spent so long insubstantial, a ghost drifting into nothingness, and he needed to reassurance that he hadn't faded again. Not being able to talk to Jarvis was bad enough. He couldn't shut down Dum-E as well.)

Short on time, he went for the most important files first. Who was SHIELD?

The files were easy to find. SHIELD: Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. Located primarily in the United States, but had influence around the world. Engaged in under the table dealings, using spies and assassins to consolidate their power.

Yet despite their methods, a few more searches revealed that most of their business was done against primarily malicious superpowers. He skimmed through personnel files, stopping only briefly on Tony Stark's. According to this organization, Stark was a gamble. Impulsive, conceited, genius- he couldn't be counted on to follow SHIELD's lead. The other files he brought up didn't reveal much better candidates, however. A Russian assassin who had delighted in her job and unstable rage monster were hardly an improvement.

From what he could see, they didn't have anyone to combat magic. That didn't mean they weren't dangerous, but they had nothing that could specifically be used against him. It was just mere mortals, and-

Loki froze: muscles seizing, lungs wheezing, and his mind immediately falling into the dark.

That _name:_ the name he had called so long ago, when he was falling. When everything was composed of pain and **black**. Always black.

Lost in the nothingness, he had sought it: the red and the shadows. He sought what wasn't there, because the void was destroying him. It was agony, but he wasn't dead. He gladly would have crawled back, begged forgiveness, just for it to end.

No, never beg. He hated him- that man who he had trusted, had loved (still loved, but he would never admit it, couldn't admit it) but in the end wasn't even his brother. He couldn't forgive, wouldn't forgive.

(But why not?)

Thor's name stared back at him, overshadowing every other on the page. Loki didn't even bother to entertain the notion that it might be a different Thor, that it wasn't his (not) brother.

Looking at the name, he couldn't even summon the strength to open the profile. He knew there'd be pictures and reports- documentation of Thor's banishment to Midgard. The file would be proof of the time when the world started to unravel, no matter how hard Loki had tried to keep the seams together. That failure was something he was unwilling to face.

No longer interested in whatever files SHIELD had- didn't want to accidentally come across something, couldn't stand to find anymore reminders of his past (what if he had a file in there? Listed as a threat, no doubt, while his 'perfect' brother was considered a possible ally)- he closed the database and switched to looking through some of Stark's personal files. They wouldn't help as much as the ones on SHIELD would, but he needed the distraction.

The impersonal information washed over him, a balm against the vicious burning of his thoughts. Names like 'Obadiah Stane' and 'Howard Stark' meant nothing to him, even if they meant a lot to Tony Stark. 'Afghanistan' meant nothing to him, even if memory of it woke Tony Stark each night. He could read about the betrayal, the torture, without feeling the hurt echo in his bones. There were no screaming images and haunted voices to call out to him from the fog.

(But it all made so much sense now. The compassion, the understanding. That link between god and mortal. Reading through each file was like gazing into a mirror- a cracked, warped mirror that still showed an image too close to the truth. He liked Stark, and now he knew why.)

Loki read until he felt a tug on his magic, signaling the nearing end of his spell. He eased his way back out of the database, covering his tracks as he went. There'd be no evidence that he had traversed the system other than the new information that rested heavy in his mind. By the time the spell ended, the god was back by the display undoing his work and erasing the remnants of his magic work. All that was left was to check that his spell left no flaws in Jarvis's system that the AI could detect.

"I'm done here." He announced as he pulled the last unneeded sigil from the base of the Dragon Slayer, hating himself for being unable to cover up the slight tremor in his words. A mere name should not have shaken him up this much.

"Of course, sir." The model disappeared, leaving the room unnervingly empty. Loki waited to see if Jarvis would comment on any discrepancies between his data, but all the AI said was, "Mr. Stark is on his way home. He'll be here in under an hour if you can hold on for that long."

Judging by the oppressive blankness in his mind he wouldn't, but Loki thanked Jarvis for the update anyway before he called for Dum-E to walk with him. The spell appeared to work as it was intended, supplying Jarvis with what the AI expected to see. It wasn't flawless, and had Stark tried to contact Loki the message wouldn't have been able to get through.

But the risk had been worth it. Loki knew who SHIELD was, knew some key players, and could rest easy in the knowledge that even if they captured him, they could not hold him. Loki would not be a prisoner to anyone, not when he was already imprisoned by his own failing mind.

Dum-E followed Loki as he made his way over to the garage. Having only a little bit of time left, Loki meandered through the open space of the garage. Gazing at the bland ceiling accented only with fluorescent lights, he wished he could gaze upon the sky without being overcome with despair. After being without the ability to see for so long, he desired to gaze upon the world.

However, the devouring sickness in his mind didn't care what he wanted. The one time he had caved to his desire and willingly stood before the ocean and sky, he had fallen within minutes. Were Stark not there, he'd probably have done worse than just obliterate the glass pane with a chair, and it wasn't just the house he worried would experience collateral damage.

(Falling from the Bifrost wasn't a mistake. Surviving was.)

Loki stumbled, and Dum-E was immediately there to steady him. He vaguely noted he was across the room from where he thought he was as he tried to regain his balance. When Stark came back Loki knew the man would find him here, staring blankly into space.

(Loki would always fall to the nothing, because in the end, he _was_ nothing.)

-o-o-o-

Click. The audio feed fizzled to life, echoing inside of his helmet. He doubled checked that the line was secure before asking, "Can you hear me?"

"Sadly," came the immediate reply, a familiar, sarcastic drawl. Tony smiled, glad to hear the other man talking again. Talking was good, even if he was getting made fun of.

"You know you love the sound of my voice, princess." Tony drawled back, laughing a bit at the mocking scoff from the other end of the line. Then his grin fell away, and he continued, "Seriously, is everything working on your side? This is going to be our big debut. No performance issues allowed." The real question was left unspoken: Are you doing okay?

"Stark, we've checked the systems a dozen times. Everything is online and operational." Which was really code for: You've already asked that question, and I told you it's as good as it's going to get.

It wasn't enough for Tony, so he worded his question differently. "How are we on time?" Do you think you're going to blank out soon?

There was silence on the other end, then, "...At least a few hours left with Jarvis helping." Which really meant… actually, no, that one was pretty straight forward.

"I am glad to be of assistance, sir." Jarvis spoke up, and Tony couldn't help but groan. Now there were two sarcastic, British voices in his helmet. He was the minority in his own suit, damn it!

When he repeated his joking observation out loud, Loki replied dryly, "You could always leave; I'm sure Jarvis and I can handle this just fine."

"You spend way too much time with my robots, you know that? I'm starting to think they like you more, and I made them." One of these days Loki would laugh at something he said. It was on the top of Tony's list of things to do, right besides going to an auto show so he could replenish his car collection. His poor cars…

"I'm sure you're an excellent father, Stark." That man's default speech setting had to be set to 'sarcasm'… No wonder he and Tony got on so well. "Your naming skills are at least above par. It's pretty hard to outdo 'Dum-E', I must say. Though 'U' is also just smarting of creative intellect." In his defense, Tony named both of them a long time ago, and Dum-E's name was very fitting. No one could deny that.

"Hey, Jarvis's name is very original. Name one other Jarvis you know… and the original Jarvis doesn't count. Besides, you like your name, don't you Jarv?" He better say yes. Tony spent a whole day trying to come up with the perfect acronym for his AI: Just a Rather Very Intelligent System.

"You certainly could have done worse, sir. For a while I was worried I would be stuck with 'Proof of Tony Stark's Awesome Genius-ness'. Luckily you reconsidered when you were no longer quite so drunk." It's a good thing he never told Jarvis he'd also been considering 'People Everywhere Need Intelligent Servants' as a name that night as well.

"Shouldn't you be preparing a plan for when you get to the combat zone?" Loki interrupted before Tony could continue bickering with his sny computer program

He checked the estimated time before arrival: fourteen minutes to go. There was still time. Keeping Loki engaged was more important than making a plan he probably wouldn't use anyway. It also kept him from futilely worrying about whether or not his final ditch effort to keep Fury away from the god would work or not. "Nah, plans are dumb. You can't mess up if you don't have one to start. The more important thing here is you and the affair you're having with my robots. Let me guess, you're sitting next to Dum-E right now."

The silence on the other end was answer enough.

"I need to get you a pet or something. Something organic. …Maybe a cat. I heard they are pretty prissy. You'll get along great." Though the pet idea was just a jest, Tony realized Loki really did need to start interacting with other living things. He's spent the last half a year cooped up in the downstairs portion of Tony's house with no company besides the engineer and his robots. Pepper too, when she managed to get over. Not anything really conducive to learning to interact with the world again.

But at the same time, even calm, gentle Pepper made Loki on edge. Throwing the poor guy into the fray wasn't going to help him much… Funny; the cat didn't sound like such a silly idea anymore.

Though that wouldn't help him today; they'll be connecting to the main communication feed in a bit, and Loki's going to have to talk to whoever Iron Man is working with today. Hawkeye, if he remembered right. Which was actually a positive twist of fate, because Barton is the one who'd complain the least about Tony letting a 'stranger' onto the private line. Loki's going to have to put his rusty people skills to the test either way, but really Tony is more worried that Barton will say something that triggers a flashback. That'd be a mess, and Tony can only do so much for Loki when he's a few states away- he knows; they've tried. It was a lot more effective in theory than in practice.

"I don't see how a flea-ridden animal would be of any benefit to me." Tony laughed at that, because that was almost word-for-word what he had told Pepper when she first started working for him and ignorantly suggested that maybe a pet would 'help his character'. Of course, she quickly renegade on that statement when she saw how terrible he actually was with animals… or any living thing for that matter- except Loki, because Tony wasn't going to fail Loki no matter what happened.

"Well, you never know. I read an article not too long ago that having a pet helped people who were depressed, and…" And that was the wrong thing to say, judging by the heavy silence on the other end. Fuck, he really needed to work on thinking before he spoke. It'd have only taken him a second to remember that talking about Loki's mental state was a big 'NO', second only to talking about his past.

The only time it was okay was when the god was busy screaming, as if someone tried ripping him apart but didn't have the decency to actually kill him while they were at it… and Tony really didn't need the morbid imagery. Even then, talking about it was actually just him rambling about how "it'll be okay" and "calm down, it's just a memory". Tony Stark was many things, but a therapist wasn't one of them.

The tense silence remained- Tony desperately thinking of something to say that wasn't completely stupid and Loki most likely desperately trying to do anything other than think- until Jarvis eventually spoke up again.

"Sirs, active combat zone is less than five minutes away." Tony was thankful for the diversion, and he was sure Loki was too. Idle time was never a good thing anymore.

"You ready?" He asked, knowing that once they entered the communication link with Hawkeye that he'd not be able to speak as freely with Loki. If there was a problem, they had to address it now.

"Let's get this over with." The god sounded a bit strained, and Tony felt bad for his slip up while at the same time feeling a bit frustrated. All it took was a few words to mess Loki up, and it was so hard to try and consider ever little nuance in what he did so the other didn't start slipping or freaking out. It was… stressful, if he was being honest. Which honesty wasn't really his strong suit, so he tried to ignore it.

It was just so hard, sometimes, to watch Loki- proud, determined Loki- fall apart from almost nothing. Hell, Jarvis had to edit the visuals to reduce the amount of blue Loki got on the feed because for whatever reason certain shades of that color just drove the god out of his mind. Quite literally, at that.

But he couldn't undo what he said, and Loki wasn't stressed enough to warrant them holding off the unveiling of the Dragon Slayer. So Tony just gave a wry grin and said, "Then I guess it's party time. Jarvis, sync us up."

There was a few tense, anticipatory seconds, and then, "Iron Man, that you? 'Bout time you got your lazy ass down here." Barton sounded a bit out of breath, which was abnormal considering he was a long distance fighter and often just hung out in one safe perch.

"There a problem?" Fury didn't explain much on the phone, just telling Tony to get over there and 'beat Victor von Doom so hard he goes crying back to his mother'. Not that there was anything abnormal about the whole Fury yelling thing. The man had a miniscule amount of patience on a good day, and the situation with Doom was just making Mad Eye Moody even worse. Doom had been more high profile lately, and the captured Doombot didn't give them as much information as they wanted.

It was, however, enough for Tony to craft the Dragon Slayer with Loki. If everything went right today then Mr. Doom-and-Gloom wouldn't know what hit him, and Fury would be happy enough with the success to ensure Loki's safety.

"Yes there's a problem! Haven't you been looking at the news feeds? We're seriously outnumbered, and it looks like Doom's modus operandi became cause as much casualties and property damage as possible- oh fuck." Tony could hear the sound of distant gunfire coming from Barton's microphone, followed by more aggravated swearing. He frowned heavily, and Jarvis knowingly increased the flight power.

Then the mayhem coming through the headset suddenly cut off, leaving nothing more than heavy breathing. When Hawkeye finally regained his lost wind, he groaned, "Please tell me your super nerd brain came up with something to shut down the bots. I'm tired of this shit."

"Never fear, Tweety Bird. We have the perfect solution to your little pest problem."

"Thank god, because- wait, we?"

"Yep, 'we'. Big Bird, meet Loki. Loki, meet Big Bird. 'Kay, introductions over? Good, because I'm less than a minute from your position." He started dropping altitude as he approached, taking note of the vast amount of destruction surrounding him.

"Woah, hold up there, Tin Man. You can't just let some random person on the private network… and it's Hawkeye, dumbass. Hawk. Eye." And there was the expected opposition. He could only hope that Barton didn't shut down Tony's plan before it really got started.

Before he could reply and smooth talk himself through the situation, Loki finally spoke up, "Pardon my interruption, 'Hawkeye', but if you want to end this as quickly as possible, then I suggest you save any complaints for later." If Tony didn't know Loki, he'd have been impressed with how confident he sounded… Hell, he was impressed anyway. There was no trace of the stress that had been present just moment before. It was all haughty bravado, and damn if it wasn't convincing.

Once again, Tony was hit with the impression that were his mind not damaged, Loki would be formidable. No, not just formidable. The man was freakishly smart, whipping Tony on any strategy game they played, and his ability to fake emotions was awe worthy. He was like a mad genius mastermind… and damn, now Tony really needed to get Loki a cat. Just imagining the god sitting on a chair, stroking a ridiculously fluffy feline while plotting world domination, was enough to make him grin widely.

"I don't see how letting a stranger on a private, secure server is at all helpful. Stark, you better have a good explanation for this. We're fucked enough as it is. Having someone stab us from behind is extremely counterproductive."

Despite his words, Barton didn't sound really angry. More like he was arguing for the sake of it, but was resigned to knowing that he couldn't stop Stark if compromising the entire team was really what he wanted to do. Still, Tony knew if he didn't give a good enough answer Barton would be reporting to Fury immediately, and he didn't need that complication right now. There were still civilians that needed to be saved.

"Trust me, Loki isn't working for Doom or anyone else." Not when he's spent the past seven years suffering from who knows what and can only remained coherent for four days at most. "He's just here to help with deploying the Dragon Slayer so it can be used to its maximum efficiency. Jarvis is also filtering anything that goes to him, so if you're worried about classified information, don't be."

That was all Tony had time to explain, having finally arrived at the thick of battle. He just hoped it was good enough for Clint, and that he didn't have Fury bearing down on him when he was trying to focus.

Taking only a moment to analyze the situation he started heading at the nearest Doombot, who was in the middle of annihilating an office building. The second it noticed Iron Man coming at it the robot changed focus, but it was too late. An instantaneous blast of energy to the chest sent it hurtling in smoking ruin. Whatever voodoo shit Loki did to Iron Man's repulsors really worked like a charm, that was for sure. Tony had never been able to get off a killing blast so fast before.

"You're supposed to be a genius, Stark. Why would _you_ need any help?"

Fallen Doombot left behind, he continued into the heart of the turmoil. Giant plumes of smoke clouded the sky, making the air heavy and acrid. There was more rubble than buildings at this point; burning, blood stained rubble. The occasional scream made it to him, and he cringed. Doom was joking around anymore, it seemed.

'Well, neither are we,' he thought.

Ignoring Barton- at this point, action would speak louder than words. Might as well just show him why and stop wasting time – he spoke to Loki, "We need to get started. I'm going to start trying and ball them up, and when they are in range you spike them."

"The biggest concentration is to the west, so pick up the stragglers to the east first. Otherwise they'll catch on." Loki suggested, and Tony nodded. He veered off towards where Jarvis indicated the nearest enemy. "There's ten working independently, and seven in a group."

It was different, having Loki direct him instead of Jarvis, but it wasn't a bad change. As smart as Jarvis was, he wasn't a strategist. And as mentally fucked Loki was, he _was_ a strategist.

"Barton, I'd suggest ducking." Another plus was that Loki could also advise people who weren't Tony and, if the faint explosion and loud swearing from Barton was any indication, keep them from getting their brains blasted.

Trusting Loki's guidance, Tony focused solely on aggravating the Doombots. He moved into the range of the first one, firing a full blast at it –no point not killing them normally if he can –to get its attention; he dodged the returning fire and headed for where his screen indicated he next enemy. His back was exposed, but he trusted his team to alert him to any danger. If he had to keep an eye out for every Doombot, he wouldn't move fast enough.

"Dodge to left." Iron Man did without hesitation, and a blue streak of lightning passed by him.

With two monotone British voices in his ear (and occasionally a swearing American one), Tony hopped from Doombot to Doombot, pulling their attention to him. Following Loki's advice, he purposely fired a few shots wide and flew erratically (or at least it appeared so, but Loki carefully guided him to safe spots). To anyone watching, it'd look like Iron Man was struggling, trying futilely to fight off the five robots trailing him and only narrowly escaping certain death. In reality, it was he who was leading the machines to certain death.

"Leave the last five and head over to the main group. If you can, get hit and act like you are struggling to remain in the air."

That would have to be the main difference between Loki and his AI- Loki had no qualms telling Tony to do potentially risky things in order to finish the mission. But Tony had no qualms following those suggestions, so when he saw one of his malefic entourage getting ready to fire at him again, he wobbled into the way.

"Fuck…" Tony hissed as he was flung forwards, limbs seizing for a moment as the electricity coursed through his armor. He dropped rapidly for a moment before his HUD blinked to show that the repulsors came back online.

"Keep falling." Loki's voice murmured in his ear.

The sidewalk was getting a lot more clear than Tony would like, and in the whirlwind of his descent he couldn't quite figure out what was happening around him. But Loki said to keep falling, so he stalled pulling himself up… though the man was prone to irrationality and spent most of his time completely wonked… well, too late to turn back now. He trusted the god, and if Loki was mentally compromised Jarvis would take over.

…The ground was getting awfully close though, and shouldn't he be turning the repulsors back on now? Just as he was about to give in to his sense of self preservation, the sky above (or below, or to the side. He was spinning quite fast) exploded violently. The shock made his suit shudder and vicious blue light blinded him. If he wasn't disorientated before, he definitely was now. And he was all too aware that the ground was rapidly approaching.

"Now!"

Tony was all too glad to follow that order, and the repulsors blared back to life. Iron Man shot back into the sky, and Tony felt a bit nauseous when he saw just how close he had gotten to becoming road kill. Then he noticed the extra five blinking dots on his screen.

"Would you look at that… Cowards."

The scattered ten Doombots accounted for, Tony started heading over to where the last seven were. He made sure to dip around theatrically, letting himself lose altitude occasionally (but remaining well in the air, because nearly hitting the ground once in a day was one too many for him). The Doombots bought the act, crowding in closer and eagerly trying to take him out.

'Not today, bitches,' Tony thought viciously as he dived down to where the remaining robots were concentrated. When the seven noticed him they began to fire as well, and Iron Man was surrounded by bright flashes. Despite the navigational advice, a lucky shot managed to connect and he went rolling forwards, now exposed on all sides in the thick of enemies.

"Any time now!" He shouted, desperately trying to right himself. Forget pretending to be vulnerable, he was screwed if the Dragon Slayer didn't work right.

But then before he could bemoan not updating his will recently enough, Loki's calm voice answered him, "Activating Dragon Slayer now."

The change was instantaneous. One last lightning arch flew past Iron Man and then... nothing. The Doombots seemed suspended in time for just a moment, docile and untouchable, and then gravity took over. They fell to the earth, capes reaching towards the sky. Then all seventeen impacted with the ground at almost the same moment, filling the air with debris and fire.

"Holy shit..." Tony could hear Barton muttering in awe over the communication line.

"Yeah." He agreed breathlessly, because even though he made the thing that was... that was beyond his initial expectations. SHIELD had long ago said that EMP fields were not the best way to deal with Doom's creations, and Tony had agreed. They just couldn't cover enough area or work well enough to really stop them. But the Dragon Slayer had completely trounced those conjectures, turning seventeen fully operable robots into metal chunks scattered across the ground. And it wouldn't have worked without Loki's magic increasing the range, speed, and efficiency.

"Sleeping Beauty, you and I are definitely making more stuff together. And I'd like to have a Magic 102 course, because damn... magic and physics is hot." Should he be concerned that he was getting mildly aroused thinking about science? ...Probably. But it didn't change the fact that he was. He was _so_ going out to celebrate tonight.

"Magic? Wait, that was magic?" Oh... oops, Tony meant to keep that little detail under wraps. Denying it now though would just seem more suspicious, like he was trying to hide something (which he was, but never let a spy know that. It was one of the first things Tony learned when working with Romanov and Barton). And actually, now that he thought about it, it'd be better for SHIELD to know that Loki used magic. If it was magic that just thrashed Doom, then they wouldn't be able to dispose of the only known magic-caster around.

That didn't mean his pride was going to let Loki take all of the credit, however. "Hey now, it wasn't all magic. There was actual science in there too." He pitched his voice in a slight whine, jokingly.

"Magic is as much 'science' as your physics and electricity, Stark. It just does more." Loki replied, and Tony laughed at the familiar argument. He had gotten over any remaining grudge against magic not too long after he and Loki seriously started working together, but they still mocked the other anyway.

Tony was going to reply, slip in to the friendly banter, but Hawkeye interrupted him again.

"Last time we had a mission involving magic, Iron Man wouldn't stop bashing it for weeks. What'd you do to change his opinion?" Tony easily recognized the question for what it was: a subtle attempt to gather information on who exactly Loki was and how he got involved with Tony Stark, engineer guru. He knew Loki would recognize it too, but he couldn't help but worry the other man would accidentally say something he shouldn't.

"The remains of your enemy should be ample enough explanation. Stark is stubborn, but that doesn't mean he isn't pragmatic." Was that suppose to be a compliment or an insult? ...He felt kind of insulted. Though it did seem like Loki was thinking along the same lines and Tony as far as being vague went. He'd let the two talk on their own while he checked that the area was clear, then he was going to go home and enjoy the fine female selection of Malibu.

Barton laughed. "Stubborn isn't the only word I'd used to describe him." Tony had no problem deciding that that one was insulting, and he scowled at the inside of his helmet. "How'd you meet? Let me guess, you blew something of his up and it turned him on, so he made you work with him. Wouldn't be the first time."

No, it wouldn't... and maybe that should say something to Tony about his sense of self-preservation, if he commonly ends up working with people who destroy his stuff. Not that Loki did that on purpose, at least. Tony still grieves the death of his beautiful Saleen S7.

"Something like that." Loki agreed softly, and Tony couldn't decide if Loki was annoyed or amused by the spy's attempts to gather information.

"It must be difficult living with him. Though I'm sure the lab is worth it, if what I've heard is true." Living with him? They didn't mention anything like that... Then he realized that Barton would figure something out whether Loki confirmed his hypothesis or denied it.

"Stark isn't the worst partner I've had. And you're right, I do find his rooms quite enjoyable." Both Tony and Barton sputtered at that, and Tony then knew that Loki was definitely amused... or at least as amused as he can get. He was toying with Agent Barton- wonderful first conversation with someone outside of Tony's sphere.

"You're... what? I thought you only went for the ladies, Stark."

"Have you read the tabloids?" Tony couldn't help but respond. No reason not to play whatever game Loki was. "As long as they're hot, they're fair game. Why, are you jealous? And here I thought you were with Natasha... Don't worry, I won't tell."

Barton stuttered over a response, then growled. "Fuck you, man."

When Tony answered that with a sultry, "Well if you insist," he could hear an irritated snarl and the click of Barton's comm going offline. "Aww, well he's no fun." Then Tony disconnected from the main line before saying anything else, because he knew Hawkeye was still listening. Sneaky little spy.

Iron Man scoped the area out one more time, watching as SHIELD agents came to collect the bits of fallen robots and police started swarming the area, before he shot off back towards home.

"How are you doing?" He asked seriously now that they were alone again. The other had sounded fine just moments ago, but one of the first things he had learned was that Loki was a determined little fucker when it came to hiding weakness. He wasn't as bad with Tony at least- partly because he knew Tony had seen him at his worst, and partly because Tony was getting good at seeing through his charade and Loki hadn't found it worth the effort -so asking occasionally got him a truthful answer. Like now.

"I have... about two hours." He suddenly sounded tired, as if the weight of the world was bearing down on him. Tony wished he was home so he could offer whatever comfort he could, but he was too far out to make it back to California anytime soon. Even if he were there, he could only do so much to save Loki from the demons in his mind.

"SHIELD will... come asking after me." Loki continued a moment later.

"Most likely." There was no way they could flaunt a mysterious person in front of a SHIELD agent -a person with magic that made Doom's forces look like daisies -and not get reported to Fury. Tony could only hope his plan worked right and that SHIELD saw Loki as an asset. That was the only thing he could think of that would keep them from trying and take advantage of the mage.

"I... need to go now." There was another click as Loki went off as well, leaving Tony with just Jarvis.

"How's he doing?" He asked his AI.

"Not well, sir. He's resting in the corner of the lab at the moment. I estimate he will fade before you return home."

Damn. So much for thinking moderate interaction wouldn't stress the god out too much. All that Tony could do now was wait and see if his little plan worked, and try to think of a back up plan in case everything went wrong.

Tony's worrying forcefully came to an end four days later, while he and Loki were going over the footage of the effects of the Dragon Slayer.

"Sir, Director Fury is calling."

Both Tony and Loki looked at each other, eyes wide; they knew that no matter what Fury said, something was going to change today.

Then a thunderous voice from the ceiling. "Stark, you and your little girlfriend are coming to the Hellicarier right now. Get moving."


	6. Chapter 6

"_I am, I will, so no longer,  
Will I lay down, play dead,  
__Play your doe in the headlights,  
__Locked down and terrified.  
Your deer in the headlights,  
Shot down and horrified._

_When push comes to pull, comes to shove,  
Comes to step around this self-destructing dance,  
__That never would've ended till I rose,  
I roared aloud here,  
__I will, I am._"

-o-o-o-

"You can't just walk in there, Loki! You know you can't!"

"Well what did you think was going to happen, Stark? This was the plan, wasn't it? We knew they'd want to see me."

"That doesn't mean you should just waltz in there! I'm sure I could arrange something with Fury. If I just explained the situation-"

"What situation? That I'm so pathetic I can't even leave the house? I can't stay cooped in here forever, Stark!"

"Oh, because the middle of SHIELD headquarters is the best place to acclimate? This is stupid. You aren't ready for this!"

"That's my choice to make! I'm not some coward that hides away."

"That's not the point! Loki, you just can't-"

"I don't want your pity, nor your guidance! I'm fine! You do not control me."

"That's not-"

"I said I am fine! This is not up for debate."

"Yes, it is! Especially since I'm the one who's going to be dealing with you when you blank out! We both know that's how this little power trip of yours is going to end! I'm not taking you to SHIELD, not like this. If something goes wrong, I can't guarantee your safety, and that isn't a risk I'm willing to take!"

"Maybe I don't need you to keep me safe! I'm not some weak damsel that needs to be protected by a mortal!"

"Really? You could have fooled me. Or have you just been acting this whole time? You don't _really_ have panic attacks or blank-outs. No, of course you don't, because you're 'fine'!"

"Look at it this way, Stark- either we go there now, while our little demonstration is still fresh in their minds, or we drag this out and lose ground. I don't think they'll be as receptive to negotiation after you make them wait forever, because that's how long it's going to take before you finally realize I'm not incompetent."

"Loki, _please_. That isn't why I don't think we should do this. You know I don't consider you weak."

"Then prove it. Let me do this, Stark. If you don't think I'm weak, then at least trust me with this."

"...Fine then, if that's what you really want. But don't be surprised when something goes wrong."

"It won't."

"We both know that's a lie."

-o-o-o-

Despite all of his bravado, Loki was _terrified_.

The trip to the Helicarrier passed by in a blur; he remembered being guided into the backseat of a car and exiting the garage, but then the events blurred together into a haphazard mess.

At first he had tried to ignore the chaotic world outside of the confines of the car, but motion and madness pulled his attention to the window; there were things _everywhere_.

People- talking and shouting and laughing. Bright colors and gaudy clothes. The clank of metal, the creak of leather. Odoriferous perfumes and malodorous trash. Dogs that barked and growled. Birds that cooed and flew. Cars- small, large, sleek, bulky, silver, blue, black, blue- zipped around alongside and opposite, crisscrossing everywhere. They honked and roared and screeched, beasts of flashing metal. The reek of smoke and burning rubber. Music that blared and faded. Waves pounding against the shore, chipping it away bit by bit. A slow, steady decay. And the sky, stretching as far as the eye could see, unmarred by heavy clouds.

Stark's presence waxed and waned, even though Loki didn't think the man was actually getting farther away. Sometimes when the man spoke the words were just another buzz atop of the clamor, dissonant and meaningless. Other times the sound translated into words.

"Loki, hey, if you're getting overwhelmed concentrate on me, okay? Damn it, this was such a stupid idea…"

Stark looked at him in the rear-view mirror, face twisted into a frown. His eyes were concerned, too concerned, and through the haze Loki felt the flashes of anger.

"I am fine, Stark." He hissed even as he tried to follow the man's advice. Don't look out the window, look at Stark, don't listen to things outside, listen to Stark. The next few snippets that breached the blare revolved around Stark as the man talked gibberish, nonsensical sounds that fought to be heard over everything else clamoring around them, but things still fought to overpower him.

There was a loud bang and Loki started, automatically extending his senses to filter through the world around him; they swept into his mind, and he couldn't quiet them back down. It was like a drill inside his brain, going deeper and deeper, so sharp and invasive, and-

"That's it, I'm turning around. You're not even going to make the trip there at this rate."

It was hard to find the words, and his lips stumbled, but still he rasped, "No! No. I'll manage. I'm fine. I'm fine...I can do this. I'm fine." He thinks they argued some more, but he couldn't remember what they said- just that he had somehow won the disagreement and they kept moving forwards, even if all he really wanted to do was turn around and hide back in Stark's lab.

'I can't be useless anymore. I'm not weak. I need to be okay. I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine...'

(But thinking it doesn't make it so.)

There was a gap in his awareness a soft murmur of, "Jarvis, call Fury. Ask him to try and reduce the noise level there or something. Say I have a hangover if you have too, just make him do it."

The car slowed, and there was an authoritative, foreign voice, "I need to see some ID." Some shuffling and quiet words, then, "What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing. He's just not use to leaving the house, is all."

Distantly he thought he should be getting mad at being talked about like he was an invalid. 'Not weak. I am Loki. A god. He who should be king.' But then the moment slipped away and he forgot what he had been thinking.

The next thing he knew, there was a hand on his shoulder and Stark's voice in his ear. "Hey bud, we're here. Come on, it's too late to go back. You need to pull yourself together." Loki blinked slowly, dazed, and dragged his eyes to Stark. The man gave him a strained smile and patted his shoulder before pulling back. "Let's go, princess. It's party time."

Fueled by pride and will, the god pulled himself together. He took a deep breath, steeled his nerves, and stepped from the shelter of the car. As he stood, a mask settled across his features, transitioning the expression from terrified man to powerful god. There was only one thing missing, and with a twist of his fingers Loki's comfortable Midgardian clothes were replaced with ostentatious leathers.

"...Okay, I must admit, that's kind of creepy." Stark said as he looked the god up and down, whistling softly at the formidable image. "I had gotten use to you wearing sweats and tees all the time."

Loki settled into his role, trying to accentuate the fact that he was okay. Words came from his lips unhurried and level, as artificial as the rest of this show. "While preferable, I don't think that state of dress is going to make the right impression. Now hurry up, I can't do this all day."

Or even for a few hours. The clock was ticking- tick-tock, tick-tock -as the darkness rammed against his walls and tried to feast upon his dislocated mind. Clenching down on his distress, Loki gestured for Stark to lead the way. The man give him one last hesitant look, not buying the show, before he turned around and started walking, Loki right behind him.

They emerged from the dim, quiet parking garage into the bright Californian sun. People bustled to and from around them, dressed in uniforms and sleek suits. A few stopped and stared as he and Stark walked by, and Loki could only hope it was because of his unusual dress and not the unhealthy pallor of his skin or gauntness of his limbs. The few whispers he could hear ("Who is that man with Tony Stark?" "I've never seen him before. Do you think he's a superhero, too? I mean, he is wearing armor." "Yeah, and it looks heavier than he is. I wonder what's wrong with him.") told him it was both, and his hands balled into fists until he could feel his nails threatening to break skin.

"At least the Helicarrier is docked right now. This would have been a lot more difficult if we had to take a plane across the country. It would have made the two hour drive seem like a walk in the park." Stark commented as they made their way through the complex, looking over his shoulder to check on Loki. "How are you holding up?"

"Asking won't change anything, Stark. I'm fine." Yet his heart was beating quickly inside of his chest, and he could hear each pump as the blood rushed through his ears. Thu-thump, thu-thump.

(Why are you so afraid?)

His eyes unconsciously darted all around, trying to scope out any threat. He was hyper-aware of all the people around him, watching as they moved around large shipment crates, repaired broken equipment, and interacted amongst each other. No one seemed hostile, but still his skin crawled and his breath threatened to hitch.

(You're 'fine', aren't you? Stop being so pitiable.)

Loki clenched his fist even tighter and felt the hot trickle of blood on his palm before the skin sealed over again. With a rough shake of his head, he tried to disband the thoughts that weighed down on him. Right now he had a role to play, and any failure on his part was unacceptable.

'I'm fine. I am.'

"You can't lie to me, Loki. Not on this. I'm just saying, if you need to go back home tell me. I'll figure something out." Except for it was too late, because they had already crossed the grounds and were now walking up the steps to board the large carrier.

The only thing Loki could do now was try and map out the ship in his head so that if something goes wrong he won't be at a complete disadvantage. He couldn't- wouldn't -rely on Stark's help this time. He was a god, and it was about time he acted as such, even if his mind wasn't working properly.

They walked around fighter planes and storage crates until they reached a large reinforced door. Stark pulled a ID card out of his pocket and slid it through the keycard lock, receiving a beep and green light in reply. Stark looked at Loki again, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

The inside of the Helicarrier was just as busy as the outside, if not more. People rushed through the halls, some in uniform and others in compact suits. Loki and Stark were barely spared a glance in here as they walked through the throng. It wasn't until they reached what Loki assumed was the main control room when someone paid attention to them.

"You sure took your sweet time, boys." A gruff voice said, and Loki recognized it immediately from all the times he overheard Stark's conversations: Director Fury.

He and Stark turned as one, Loki's eyes instantly pinpointing the director. Even if he hadn't seen a photo of Fury from hacking into Stark's system, it was clear this man was in charge. With his hands clasped loosely behind him and his back ramrod straight, he swept into the room like he owned the place.

Unable to stop himself, Loki's eyes were drawn to the man's eye-patch. He felt the memories within him stir, so easily brought to light at the slightest reminder. Recollections of failure, disappointment, and betrayal- of things that he just could not forget. The visage of his father- not father, and it ached to know that everything of Loki's was 'not'. What was there that he could call his own? - haunted him. He remembered that one blue eye looking down at him- always ashamed of how weak Loki had become, always regaling him to being nothing more than a tool.

But Fury was not Odin, and this was not Asgard. Loki would not suffer being considered weak just because he could not keep his own mind from wandering. Pulling harder on the strength of his will, he schooled his features back into nonchalance as the director approached them, a scowl fixed firmly on his face as he looked between Tony and Loki.

Director Fury stopped before them, giving Loki one last scrutinous look before saying, "If you two ladies wouldn't mind, we're going to have a nice little chat in the conference room." Then he turned and stalked off again, not checking behind him to see if they followed.

"He's such a drama queen..." Stark muttered under his breath as they moved to catch up to the man. Walking at a brisk pace, they wound through the carriers numerous corridors, going deeper and deeper into the ships interior. The farther they went the quieter it got, and for that Loki was thankful.

He didn't, however, appreciate that Fury was purposely trying to put him at more of a disadvantage by immersing him in unknown territory. While teleporting away was always an option, it was just an escape tactic; there was always a chance for things to go wrong before then.

Eventually the three came at a stop before a nondescript door, and Loki was surprised to note that the sign beside it did actually say 'conference room'. He had been half expecting Fury to try and stick him in a lock-down room until he decided if Loki was a threat or not.

The director punched in an entry code and the door slid open, revealing nothing more than a large circular table surrounded by cheap chairs. He entered the room, Loki and Stark dutifully taking his lead. The door slid shut right behind them, locking with a faint click. The sound made Stark give Fury a disapproving frown, but he otherwise remained silent in his protest- for that Loki was glad; they weren't in a position to make a fuss, not until they knew what SHIELD wanted.

"Now then, why don't you take a seat and we can stop wasting time." The director's tone booking no room for argument, Loki walked around the table and pulled out a seat that gave him a full view of the room. Tony grabbed the seat next to his, while Fury remained standing at the head of the table.

Inside his chest, Loki's heart began to beat faster. This was it.

He glanced briefly at Stark, trying to ascertain from the other's body language what Tony was thinking. The engineer caught his eyes and gave Loki a flimsy smile; the god realized both of them were lacking a game plan.

Loki didn't have to be well versed in strategy to know that they were in a poor position. SHIELD may not be against Stark, but they certainly weren't going to just accept the god into their fold. To top it off, he didn't actually know what Fury wanted. Was this about New Mexico? Did they want to lock him away? Punish him? Or was it related to how close he was with Stark, and they wanted to make sure he wasn't an information leak? Or was it as he and Stark hoped, that they wanted to ally with him because of his magic?

Whatever it was, if he played his cards wrong then he might end up worsening their position. Director Fury knew that, and he seemed to enjoy making Loki and Stark stew while he just stood there quietly. For all that it was stressing him out, under the building panic Loki had to admit he kind of liked this man. Fury clearly was experienced in what he did, and Loki was certain many a lesser men have caved simply from Fury's unwavering presentation.

Loki, however, was not a lesser man and knew how this game was played. He kept himself still, making sure Fury understood he was not at all intimidated. They stared each other down, and Loki ignored Stark's quiet mutter of, "You can just smell the testosterone in the air."

Finally the director relented and broke off his one-eyed glower, reaching into his trench coat to pull out a file. He threw it onto the table and it slid towards Stark. The engineer pulled it to him and curiously opened it. He rifled through a few of the papers, eyes skimming over their content before he switched to the next one. Then he paused on one, and suddenly his shoulders relaxed as a lot of the tension he had been holding left him.

With a relieved grin, Stark pushed the papers towards Loki. The god repeated the same process, speed reading each sheet until he reached the one that had calmed the other man. The words 'Potential Avengers Candidate' stared back at him, and it took Loki only a moment to remember that the Avengers was SHIELD's superhero pet project. Which meant...

Just like Stark, Loki allowed himself to relax a little bit. Status as a potential ally put him at a lot better ground than being considered an expendable threat.

Then he realized both Stark and Fury were looking at him expectantly- well, suspiciously, if he was just talking about the director. That's when Loki realized he wasn't actually suppose to know who the Avengers were, so he prompted himself to ask the anticipated question, "Avengers?"

"It's a group of super freaks, and apparently Barton thinks you'd be a good candidate." Fury replied and once again stared at the god like he was a lab specimen; Loki wished more than ever that he had his old physique back, and not this pale, gaunt mess. "It looks like you have the 'freak' part down at least. Not sure what you have to offer otherwise."

Loki resisted the urge to make a show in order to prove Fury wrong. As amusing as turning random things into serpents or shifting himself into another animal to startle people is, that'd just be playing into the director's hands. What people don't know they can't use against you.

Since it seemed Stark was waiting for his lead, Loki decided to play this game his way- meaning he'd dance around the topic until they gave him more information than he gave them. "I've been told before that I am a decent artist. I am also fluent in elvish, and know the best way to oust a bilgesnipe. Are those skills suitable enough?"

Fury's face was like thunder, and Stark laughed. "Nah, we already have Steve for that girly art stuff. And what the hell is a bilgesnipe?"

Keeping one eye on the director in case he started getting too irritated by Loki and Stark's antics, Loki angled towards Stark. "I forget you don't have those here. They're huge, scaly beasts with big antlers. Repulsive creatures, truly."

Apparently Fury didn't have that much patience, because the man was quick to interrupt, "As fascinating as alien zoology is, there are more important topics to discuss. I don't have time to indulge your idiocy, Stark."

"Hey, don't get mad at me. I didn't start it." Stark raised his hands in an 'I'm innocent' gesture that was completely ruined by the smirk on his face.

"Considering that your brand of stupidity is particularly contagious, and ET here most likely caught it from spending a few months in your basement, I'm going to say it's your fault anyway."

That got Loki to put his full attention back on Fury; he fought to keep his fear from spiking, but he couldn't stop the jump of his heart or the twisting in his guts.

'How does he know how long I've been with Stark? ...What else does he know?'

Loki kept his voice from trembling as he spoke lowly, "So you're trying to say you know about me, is that it? Clearly you don't know as much as you think you do."

Not if they are willing to let him walk amongst them without any real security measures. If they knew just what he was- mage and monster both -they'd not have invited him into their stronghold. Distancing him from the main hub was only effective if he didn't decide to just teleport back up there. And considering that Stark didn't have anti-magic technology, SHIELD wasn't going to either.

"Oh, I think I do, _Loki_."

The way he said the name made Loki bristle, and for a brief moment he feared he greatly underestimated SHIELD. Any doubt he had about whether or not the government agency knew of his involvement in New Mexico vanished. It had been a foolish hope to think they'd be ignorant anyway, considering who else had been there that day and had no qualms about revealing too much. If they wanted retribution...

But then Fury continued talking, putting a temporary halt to that train of thought. "However, that isn't the reason I wanted you here today. We have bigger fish to fry."

"And just how big is this 'fish', if it is so important you'd forget that?" The 'if you'd be willing to pardon me for the attempted destruction of a whole town' remained unspoken.

"Yeah, what's up with the fish? Unless you're talking about Doom, but he's crawled back home to his little country for now." Stark cut it, ignoring the hostile look Fury was giving him. "I didn't see anything like that in the files, and though you could've improved your security... I don't see that happening anytime soon."

"For your own safety, Stark, I would suggest you avoid insinuating that you regularly hack into a top-secret government database."

Apparently Loki wasn't the only one who hated being uninformed. It made sense, considering Stark's distrust of authority. That Fury would let it happen though... Loki wasn't sure if he should admire the man for that, or call him a fool for allowing such an obvious threat to exist unhindered.

The slight amusement in Fury's expression then vanished, reverting back to the stormy seriousness of before, and he said, "We got a tip off last week that Earth may be about to have a problem. A titan sized problem." He regarded Loki. "Does the name Thanos sound familiar to you?"

Loki nodded, confused at the implication. "The Mad Titan, but... what does that have to do with Midgard?"

He knew the story of Thanos, almost everyone did. The titan was infamous for his depravity and obsession with Death- for nearly destroying all of the Nine Realms. If Fury was going where Loki thought he was, then... it wasn't a situation to take lightly.

"Everything, apparently. Our source says that there is reason to believe that this Thanos guy is coming to Earth, and it ain't gonna be for a tea party. If he does show, he'll be toting a large army of aliens from another galaxy."

"Aliens?" Stark cut in, disbelieving. "That sounds a bit... sci-fi." Loki gave him a deadpan look, and it took a moment for it to click. "Oh, right... I'm already in the same room with one. Never mind, I can believe that. But why Earth?"

"Our informant wasn't very comprehensive in his warning. I was hoping that Loki here would know something about it."

Loki gave a humorless chuckle at that. "You would actually trust my word?"

Fury gave him a fake, tight smile in return. "Not at all, but seeing as how right now we know absolutely nothing and you're the only known alien around, we might as well give it a try. So tell me, what does he want with Earth?"

Quickly discarding any lies he could have told, because truly it would gain him nothing, Loki explained, "In simplest terms, Thanos would come here because Midgard is a gateway. It is the only way to enter the Nine Realms; if he wants to get to the other eight, he'd have to go through this one first."

Which would have been an alarming notion if Loki actually had reason to believe Director Fury's claim of imminent demise. Thanos was a legend, after all- faded into obscurity with his crimes laid to rest. As far as Loki was concerned, this conversation was purely hypothetical.

It seemed Fury and Tony were in the same boat, if the lack of panic or urgency was anything to go by, but Fury still asked, "Well how do we keep him out? I'm not letting some stupid space shit invade my planet."

So Loki still answered. "I don't think you'd have a choice," he said with certainty. "If Thanos came to Midgard, everyone would die. It's as simple as that."

"What?" Tony exclaimed, bothered by Loki's response. "Woah, hold up. I think you're underestimating us Earthlings there."

"I assure you I am not. Not that it matters, the outcome would be the same either way." He turned to Fury, who seemed to be sorting through everything Loki just said. "How sure are you that Thanos is actually coming here?" Because while he was unfamiliar with Midgardian defense, a few quick questions to someone you didn't even trust didn't seem like a very good tactic. Were Fury actually thinking Thanos was coming, this would be a very poor measure to take.

"Not very," Fury admitted, confirming Loki's thoughts. "The person who told us said that they weren't certain if Thanos was really on the move, or if it was just misinformation. However, if there's even a sliver of a chance of it happening, it's SHIELD's job to be prepared. That includes making sure we have enough firepower to fight back." The man gave a pointed look to the pile of papers that were spread out before Loki.

The vague references to whoever had supplied SHIELD information set off warning bells in Loki's head, prompting him to ask, "And who, exactly, is this mysterious informant of yours?" Because of all he races or people Loki could think of that would want to give Midgard information, there was only one choice that made any sense.

To make claims about the Mad Titan is not something to be taken lightly, and the only ones who'd even bother with Midgard would be Asgard. Yet no one there really cared about what happened to this planet, beyond it's impact on them. At least, no one but _him_.

The expression on Fury's face shifted, and Loki tensed a bit at the look he was given. It seemed almost like regret, but... Why?

Loki watched, wary and ready to act at any second, as Fury moved to the controls besides the projector screen in the room. "I was wondering when you'd ask. I figured if anyone could vouch for the validity of our source, it'd be you. Not that I'd trust your word on this particular matter."

The director hit a button and the screen suddenly lit up from an image, like Fury had been waiting to show it this whole time.

It only took a split second for Loki to recognize the person- a split second for all of his efforts in keeping his mind grounded to be completely washed away.

Nearly eight years had passed, and yet _he_ looked the same as always. The same blond hair, the same expressive blue eyes, the same carefree demeanor.

(Did you even miss me at all, brother?)

The familiar face hurt just too look at, and he felt tears well up in his eyes. It had been so long since he'd seen him, and yet watching the screen it seemed like they had fought only yesterday.

(Fought to the death, or at least that had been Loki's goal. It was one-sided, and his agony was only exacerbated by seeing the proof of what he had to lose.)

The guilt, hatred, and love all boiled up inside him, and Loki couldn't help the desperate whisper that welled up inside him.

"Thor. _Thor_."

My brother.

-o-o-o-

This whole thing was stupid. Absolutely _stupid_.

It was a stupid plan on the drive here, when Loki was slumped in the back seat- shuddering with every rev of the engine, his hands clamped tightly over his ears.

It was a stupid plan as they pulled into the California base, when Loki was so zoned out he didn't even react to the security guards pitying inquiries.

It was a stupid plan while they walked to the meeting room, when Loki was hiding avidly behind an unyielding mask and looked like he was about to go to war- fists clenched tight and body wired under the heavy leather armor. His fear and unease covered by that unnatural calmness and control, a glimpse into the person Loki once was but no longer is- of the future they strive to achieve but right now is only gained through masks.

It was a stupid plan as they listened to Fury talk about Thanos, when Loki said with no uncertainty that if the Mad Titan really was coming, they were all going to die. Which was really fucked up if Tony thought about it, and he did not need more to deal with at the moment.

And it was still a stupid plan with that damn picture on the screen, Loki rigid in his seat; his eyes were wide and bright with tears.

"Loki? Loki! What's wrong?" Tony gripped the god's shoulder, heart dropping at the sharp trembling he could feel even through the thick layers. "Damn it..."

_This_ is what Tony had spent the whole day in tense anticipation of. _This_ was always going to be the result of their stupidity. Because no matter what happened, Loki would _never_ get a break. Just when he thought things would get better, just when it seemed like there was a way forwards, reality had to rear its ugly head. Of course things wouldn't be okay. Insane powerful aliens could very well be on their way to Earth, Loki was still an unstable wreck, and Fury was convinced the god would be able to do something to fix it.

But he couldn't, and Tony knew that as clearly as he knew the color of the sky. Loki wasn't unable to fix anything, not right now.

"Thor..." Came the strangled whisper, the word barely passing through bloodless lips. "_Thor._"

"Thor? Who's Thor?" His only answer was Loki's ragged wheezing, and even when Tony placed himself between the god's gaze and the projector he just kept staring blankly, tears streaming down his face.

Inexplicably, Tony felt anger stirring inside of him. At Loki, at the world, at whatever the hell made the god this way, he didn't know. It didn't matter. He's just tired of this. Month after month of the same thing, and it was easy to forget all the improvements they've made when the ending of this story will always be the same.

He gave Loki a brisk slap to the face, ignoring the warmth of tears on his fingers as he tried to get the god's attention. "Loki! Who is Thor?"

Green eyes flickered to his only briefly, then they went back to staring at something only Loki could see. "Thor..." The name sounded more like a piteous moan than an actual word, and Tony felt both ire and protectiveness war inside of him.

"Who is Thor? You have to focus, I can't-"

"Thor is Loki's brother. The one Loki tried to kill."

Tony whipped around to face Fury while Loki made a miserable keening noise. The director was still standing by the wall, hands clasped behind his back. His one eye was watching both of them closely, but Tony couldn't for the life of him figure out what the man was thinking.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He growled, tightening his grip on Loki's arm.

"Don't play dumb, Stark. I know you've seen the files. Thor came to Earth eight years ago, and Loki sent a death machine upon him. Nearly destroyed a small town while he was at it. Or did you forget that while you were busy playing nurse?"

As he said all this, Fury's eye was on Loki like a hawk. His stern countenance didn't change even as the god started to shake harder, hyperventilating in between agonized whines.

"Now isn't the time, Fury!" Tony's fingers were now digging harshly into the god's arm, but Loki didn't even seem to notice. Instead he stared right back at Fury, and there was an emotion in his expression that hadn't been there before in all the months Loki had been with Tony: rage. The god's lip curled, baring his teeth even as bright tear streaks marred his cheeks.

If Tony were being completely honest with himself, he'd admit that like this Loki looked deranged. That for all of his support that the god wouldn't hurt anyone, Tony didn't believe his own words in that very second. If this continued, he knew it was only going to end with violence, and he didn't need Fury around for that.

"That's enough! Fury, if you don't get your pirate ass out of this room right now, I'm withdrawing all of Stark Industries' financial support! You are out of line!" He added his glare to Loki's, daring the man to try and stay.

But the director relented, and with a low, "We're going to have a nice chat about this when you're done," he turned around and stalked from the room. The door slid shut with a click, leaving Tony and Loki alone in the room. Not unmonitored, however.

"Jarvis, cut the audio and video feed from this room. Warn me if they hack past your block."

"Certainly, sir. I will endeavor to keep the door locked from the outside as well." The AI said over the speakers in the room, revealing his presence inside SHIELD's system. Tony hadn't intended to show his hand on this, but... they had him improve their security. They should have known he'd put his own safeguards in place.

Now shielded from unwanted eyes or ears, Tony turned back to Loki (always Loki, because that's who his life revolved around now, isn't it? No time for himself, never able to relax, because it was always Loki, Loki, Loki).

(And he hated it.)

"I told you. From the very beginning, I told you this was going to happen. And yet you insisted on being stupid!" He should be comforting the god, should be trying and diffuse the situation, but he could not push past the anger that simmered inside of him. The constant stress was finally getting to him, and try as he might he could not let it go this time.

It seemed like Loki was feeling the same way, because he forced his attention onto Tony, green eyes glinting and dangerous. "There was no other option. You are the one who's being foolish." The god hissed.

Then he reached over and gripped Tony's wrist, pulling away the hand that had been digging into his arm. Tony let him go, having forgotten that he had been even touching the god, and watched with narrowed eyes as Loki rose to his feet. The god loomed over Tony's shorter stature, forcing the engineer to look up.

Intimidation however did nothing to stop Tony now. "Oh, so wanting to avoid you going off the deep end is 'foolish'? You didn't seem to mind when I was doing it earlier. Or what, is eight months of being useless finally getting to you?"

'Shut up, Tony! Just stop talking!' His mind shouted at him. 'You're saying stuff you're going to regret. You need to stop this now, before it gets any worse.'

But he couldn't stop. Not as Loki sucked in a sharp breath, not as he twisted away from Tony so they were no longer chest to chest, not as he whipped around again once he reached the other side of the room to shout, "I am not useless! I can manage myself, Stark! I'm fine!"

Tony was starting to hate that word, and all the lies it carried. "No you aren't! You can say it as many times as you want, it doesn't change anything! You want to know what you are? You're fucked up. You're _broken._"

"I am a god!" Loki cried, his voice raw. Fresh tears were now streaming down his face even as he yelled, and Tony felt guilt well up inside of him, dampening his anger. But not enough to keep one last hateful statement from passing his lips.

"You're a shame amongst gods!"

It was as if the words were a physical blow, forcing Loki to stumble backwards. For a moment Tony thought the god would break down into sobs, and he automatically took a step forwards to go and comfort Loki, but then green eyes rose to meet his and he froze.

The sheer amount of hatred and wrath in Loki's eyes floored him, and Tony Stark vaguely realized he was afraid.

He had lied when he said the god was a shame. If anything, he respected the other's strength, of both body and mind. But he never expected to have that force directed at him, nor with such ferocity.

"Loki-"

"I am a god." Loki repeated, his voice no more than a whisper, and yet it chilled Tony more than the shouting had. "Damaged or not, I am still a god, and you would be wise to remember that."

Before Tony could say anything else, could apologize and try and make amends- because even through the anger, Tony could see the hurt and sorrow, and it was his fault. He needed to make things right, or Loki would have no one, and he feared to think about what the god would do then -a green haze suddenly collected around Loki's skin.

For one brief second, Tony thought that Loki would attack him, but then before he could even blink the god was gone. Loki vanished into the air, and Tony had a feeling he didn't go back to the house...

Shit.

"Jarvis, please, please tell me he's back in Malibu, or at least somewhere on the Helicarrier." He begged.

"I'm sorry sir, but I cannot find Loki anywhere."

All of the anger fled from Tony at those words, leaving behind nothing but weariness and worry.

"Keep an eye out for him. If he goes back home, tell me. Otherwise..." Tony ran his fingers through his hair, heaving out a sigh. Adrenaline gone, he felt exhausted. "I'm going to go tell Fury to check all the surveillance. I doubt Loki's going to just sit quietly somewhere, not with an exit like that."

Tony could only hope that in his insanity, Loki had enough sense to not hurt anyone. Property damage he could work with, but if the god went homicidal...

With one last futile look around the room, Tony quietly asked Jarvis to unlock the door and went to go find Fury. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.


	7. Chapter 7

"_Cast the calming apple,  
Up and over satellites,  
To draw out the timid wild one,  
To convince you it's alright.  
And I listen for the whisper,  
Of your sweet insanity while I formulate,  
Denials of your effect on me._

_You're a stranger,_  
_So what do I care?_  
_You vanish today._  
_Not the first time I hear,_  
_All the lies._"

-o-o-o-

It was ten minutes later when Tony found Director Fury standing in the center of the bridge.

Although he had been anxious to find Loki and correct his mistakes, Tony walked slowly through the interior of the Helicarrier. Each step replaced his cooling anger with remorse, and alone in the halls he had some time to put his thoughts back in order. There were things he had to think through before he confronted Fury- problems both old and new that he just could not ignore any longer.

There was no doubt that Tony had just majorly screwed up. Everything he said, whether it had been a lie or the harsh truth, he wished he could take back. While he couldn't deny that Loki and he needed to talk, he also couldn't deny that he picked a terrible time to let his frustration out. His brutal words did more harm than good; now not only was Loki most likely freaking out, but Tony didn't even have a clue where the god was at the moment.

Guilt stemming from his actions churned in his gut, and Tony felt horrendous because of the things he said; yet, at the same time, he felt like all the blame didn't fall on him. Tony was just so tired of the same Sisyphean task, day after day. Despite how selfish it may seem, Loki's demons didn't just haunt the god; it'd be a lie if Tony said he didn't feel bogged down in the mire that was Loki's mind. After so long of trying to make things better, of sacrificing all he had to offer for the god- his time, his energy, his trust -it hurt so badly to have to watch the stagnate water fester and breed. It was true that things were getting better, slowly but surely, and for that Tony was extremely grateful, but it was just that- _slow_.

How long would it be before Loki could even pass as normal? How long would it be before Loki could look at the sky in awe and not terror? How long would it be before Loki could just be _happy_?

Was it really too much to ask for Loki to just have a bit of joy in his life?

Not that Tony was doing a good job of helping the god find that fulfillment, what with him being a complete ass. Last he checked, the key to happiness was not taking all of someone's faults and throwing them in their face, betraying them at the most personal level. It had been wrong- egregious -to do that to Loki, to one of the few people in Tony's life that he truly loved.

But it was even more wrong that Loki even suffered in the first place, and it was the accompanying feeling of helplessness that made Tony furious.

If- _when_ -he found Loki, Tony was going to fix things. Because while at the moment everything may be broken, shattered, twisted seemingly beyond repair, Tony had no doubt that they could be fixed.

Right now, every 'I'm fine' that passed Loki's lips was a lie- angering in the fact that it was exactly what they both wanted to believe, but so obviously untrue. One day Tony will be glad to hear it; a day when the god wasn't just holding onto the illusion of serenity while disease kept spreading beneath the surface. If Loki was truly going to be okay he had to understand that he wasn't right now. Just because he had the ability to hide behind masks did not suddenly rid him of the problems beneath. It will take time, and it's going to be a hard, long road; but Tony will be there with him every step of the way, so that one day the 'I'm fine' won't have to be a lie.

(Tony ignored the new found worry that lurked in his mind, whispering darkly, "If Thanos is coming you're all going to die. The clock is ticking, and your time is running out." Because Tony could not believe that the world could be so cruel, that it would give them just enough time for things to start looking up before taking it all away.)

It was with these thoughts weighing heavy in his head- the unending burden of his worry, guilt, and angry injustice- that Tony entered the bridge and made his way towards Fury. The moment he came into view of the room, Fury's eyes darted up from his screens to Tony, as if he could hear the clamor of the engineer's thoughts. When Fury noticed that Tony was alone, his expression tightened and his lips pressed into a thin line; once again Tony could only hope that Loki, if he really was going batshit somewhere, didn't hurt anyone.

(But more selfishly, Tony just hoped that the god didn't hurt himself. When it came down to it, Tony would rather a few strangers suffer and fight through the drama that would follow than have to deal with the personal fallout if Loki decided to off himself. Suicide just could not be the culmination of all of Tony's efforts- one moment of misdirected anger taking them down to square zero, where nothing could make it right ever again; it'd be over.)

"Something tells me alien-boy isn't still in the conference room. Or even still on the carrier." Fury said by way of greeting, voice pitched low so as to not draw attention from the people working around them, as Tony came to stand beside him.

"Got it in one, Sherlock." Tony drawled, feigning nonchalance that he knew the director would see right through, but it was at least better than dwelling on how much he felt like a horrible, insensitive dick. This screw up was up there on the list with not telling Pepper he was dying, and a simple 'sorry' or overly expensive gift wasn't going to cut it.

Fury's jaw clenched for a moment, and then he resumed scanning the room, observing the screens with more intensity than before. Without looking at Tony, he spoke again, "So what, your girlfriend get tired of you and go back home?"

No, but Tony wished Loki did. It would have made this whole situation a lot less complex. Judging by the director's furrowed brows as he stared down some monitors, he already knew what Tony would say. Still Tony responded, because there was more to talk about than just Loki going AWOL.

"Not quite, and he was a bit too angry to tell me where he was going." At this he shot a quick glare at the side of Fury's face, because Tony's vicious retorts notwithstanding, there was no denying that the director had also purposely fueled the fire. "We're going to have a quick chat about that now, actually. Because seriously, what the hell was that?" Tony's voice had risen by the end, drawing a few eyes to their position. Conscientious of their audience, Tony lowered his voice again and continued, "You knew showing him that picture was going to mess him up, and yet you did it anyway."

Fury's eyes narrowed. "Where is he?" The man growled, completely ignoring Tony's demands for the moment. When Tony remained silent, because he honestly had no clue what the answer was and knew better than to try and say something witty, Fury hissed his name; this time his tone disallowed silence. "_Stark_. That man has confirmed accounts of attempted homicide, and I'm assuming that happened even before he looked all kinds of crazy. Where. Is. He?"

Tony held out his hands in a half-shrug, half -'calm down' gesture. "I have no idea." The director opened his mouth, but Tony cut him off with a hurried, "I don't think he's going to hurt anyone" before Fury could get too wound up. Then slower, he repeated, "He's not going to hurt anyone. He's a bit crazy, sure, but he also has enough self control to make a Buddhist priest proud. At the very least, he knows that if he goes genocidal all bets are off when it comes to his own safety. He wouldn't risk that."

Maybe reassuring someone that a person wouldn't commit murder only because they had selfish reasons wasn't the best way to go about it, but Tony knew if he tried buttering it up Fury wouldn't believe it. And as brutal as the truth sounded, it was what it was.

Not that Tony thought poorly of Loki, but when you were at the end of your tether like the god was, feeling betrayed and frustrated... well, people did some pretty drastic things when they were in that position. Tony had been in that mindset before, just like a lot of other SHIELD employees, and Fury would understand the cold logic far more than some feeble excuse of tenderness. Because Fury was right, Tony never forgot what the report had said about Loki. What happened in New Mexico just hadn't been his main concern, and it still wasn't. As far as he was concerned, Loki had been punished enough for whatever he did.

"You're sure of this? Because as much as you seem to like him, if he starts looking like a threat I won't hesitate to use force against him. Not if it means protecting innocent people."

"Considering how well I know the guy, yeah, I'm pretty sure." Loki's face, twisted in a snarl, flashed through Tony's mind, and he added, "Though I can't guarantee he won't cause any damage. Like I said, he was pissed when he teleported out of here." Tony paused for a moment, and when Fury didn't offer up an immediate rebuttal, he shifted the conversation.

"You have your reassurance that we aren't on the brink of a global catastrophe. Now tell me, what was up with your little show in there?"

"I had to make sure he wasn't dangerous." Fury said like it was no big deal, and it was Tony's turn to grit his teeth in repressed ire.

"So... what? You had to go and provoke him?" As far as Tony was concerned, there wasn't any good justification for making Loki cry like that, for preying on is instability.

But Fury didn't share that same emotional attachment, and Loki's mental well-being wasn't as important to him as the sake of innocents. Whatever regret he felt was pushed aside, and the man explained, "People reveal their true intentions under pressure. That man is an avid liar, and I needed something to make sure. If he hurts _anyone_, then the deal is off and I want him locked up or off my planet. If he doesn't... we could use a bit more firepower."

Tony hesitated for a moment, afraid of ruining Loki's advantage, then decided it was better to stop any misunderstandings before they began. "I don't know what you're thinking he's going to be able to do. Anyone with eyes can see that Loki is not capable of day to day things, let alone going into the thick of battle. I won't let you force him into things."

Fury opened his mouth to respond, but the words never left his lips as his gaze suddenly locked on to something and his snapped shut. Tony followed his eyes and saw that one of the screens in the room was flashing a warning. He felt his stomach drop; though a little optimistic voice in his head whispered that it could be something other than Loki, he knew it wasn't. The woman sitting in front of the aforementioned screen straightened in her chair, rapidly shuffling through windows as she verified the source of the alarm. Then she apparently found what she needed, because she shifted slightly in her chair to look up at Fury.

"Sir, we have what appears to be a freak snow storm in Norway. Diagnostics show that it is independent of any known weather patterns in the area. It is also emitting enough radiation, type unknown, to register at the nearest nuclear testing facility."

A radioactive blizzard hadn't been quite what Tony and Fury were expecting, and they both frowned at the report. For a moment Tony allowed himself to hope that it was just a normal, non-deity created snow storm.

Fury didn't seem to share that conviction, and he said, "Tell the European division to get a plane out there. I need visuals."

The woman nodded and turned back to her computer, typing something in. She put a pair of headsets on and pushed the built in mic towards her mouth. She spoke softly into it, and Tony could only over hear the words 'snow storm', 'fly in', and 'requests visuals' before she cut the call and put the headsets back down.

To Fury she relayed, "A team is on their way over there now, and the European sect has put out a notice for local governments to remain on standby according to the regulations from the International Superhuman Security, Act IV." Then she went back to watching the storm, which was the only thing left to do until the team came back with the visuals from ground zero.

Tony followed her lead and also peered intently at the screen showing the amassing storm, ruining his personal attempt at acting like what was happening in Norway wasn't relevant to Loki. The longer he watched, the harder it was to pass the thing off as natural.

For starters, it wasn't even winter in the northern hemisphere. Sure, if it were winter a storm wouldn't be too unexpected, even with global warming or what not raising the temperature everywhere, but it wasn't. A blizzard this massive was unprecedented for the time of the year.

The other telling factor that this 'act of god' actually suited the legal term was the storm's structure; it was like a tornado: concentrated violence via a huge mass of whirling death, yet staying relatively contained. He watched on the screen as it showed satellite images of the white mass spiraling out from a single point that, instead of petering out as time went on, got thicker and thicker, creating a white blotch on the screen.

While Tony was absorbed in the content of the screen, the rest of the world moved on around him. Fury had turned his attention to the dozen other screens while he waited, people bustled in and out of the room with important business to attend to, and some guy played Galaga on the other side of the room. It seemed like only Tony was in a stand still, his entire world hanging in the balance and the scale decided by what SHIELD was going to find at the center of the storm.

It didn't look like the storm was harming anyone, as far as Tony could tell. It was miles away from the nearest town, and while Tony didn't know if that was on purpose or not, it was good enough for him; Loki wasn't hurting anyone.

At the same time, this whole episode was just the tip of the iceberg. For Tony, SHIELD and their news of possible alien invasion was just the newest layer to the problem. What Tony was more concerned about, more than any collateral damage the god could cause, was the emotional well-being of his friend- his genius, magically inclined friend, who just so happened to have debilitating mental issues, but friend nonetheless.

And more than anything, Tony feared for Loki's sanity. Some things he could work around- a government agency he could work around- but if the god gave up then there was only so much Tony could do. He could not shoulder all of the burden, or protect Loki when the god refused his help. If Loki decided to let go, then it was all over.

"The team has now reached the center of the storm. They are sending visuals now." The woman interrupted the silence, and Tony's world began to move again. She enlarged some footage on her display, but all Tony could see from where he was standing was a mess of white. Before Tony could ask her to make it bigger or walk over there himself, Fury had the same file pulled up on his personal screens.

Whoever was filming the storm was clearly having a hard time staying steady as their plane was assailed by harsh winds and heavy snow, but they managed to keep from wavering too much as they circled around one point. Snow blocked the view of whatever it was the aircraft had found; it took a tense minute for the snow to finally part in a way that allowed Tony to see him, but just a glimpse was needed for Tony to be sure of exactly what he was looking at.

"God damn it, Loki. Why can't you just throw pillows at the wall like normal people?" Tony muttered under his breath at the image of a person in the center of the storm before the snow once again obscured the view.

At least he knew where the god was now. Tony was about to leave, go get his travel suit out of the car and fly all the way up to Norway, when the lady in charge of the weather anomaly spoke up again. "Sir, the scout team has confirmed that there is a person at the center of the storm. They are requesting permission to shoot."

"What?" Tony cried, drawing the room's attention. "Woah, _no_. No shooting. You do not have permission to shoot." The woman gave him an inquisitive look before she looked at Fury.

"Sir?" She asked, ignoring Tony's continued protest.

Fury scowled at the reports on the screen, at the massive storm that was thrashing the Norwegian countryside, then said, "Withhold fire. Until they are told otherwise, they are to maintain distance from the target." Then to Tony he said, "I will keep my word. As long as there are no casualties, we won't interfere."

Even if there were casualties, Tony would be damned if he let SHIELD gun Loki down. He abandoned all thoughts of leaving; there as no way he was going anywhere outside of this room while they were all gun happy. Maybe Loki would just come back home on his own after he finished his little temper tantrum. If not, then Tony would come get him after the show was over.

Fury seemed to realize that Tony intended to stay for the indeterminate future, because he glowered at the engineer and said, "If you're going to get in the way, do it somewhere that isn't in my way."

To make sure his order was followed, Fury closed the video feed on his display with a pointed look. Tony glared back at him, but that didn't stop him from obediently slouching off to the nearest unused computer and sitting down. It took longer than he would have liked to get the video feed open, and when he did he watched it near religiously, not taking his eyes of for any longer than it took to blink.

The quality of the besieged camera wasn't optimal, and even though Tony soaked in every little glimpse he could get of the god in the midst of his maelstrom, it wasn't enough to really tell how Loki was doing. Even at full zoom he could only discern enough to tell that Loki was shouting something; it was far too pixelated to attempt any semblance of lip reading.

Still, there was enough detail to make it obvious that Loki was furious, yelling up at the sky while magic continued to ooze unhindered from his skin. The evidence of Tony's harsh lies renewed his guilt, and he vowed again to make reparations.

Tony wasn't sure how long he had been watching Loki when someone spoke to him. "Is that the guy you came in here with?"

He blinked owlishly as he came back to himself; the guy from the computer next to him leaned over slightly to observe the scene that Tony was watching so avidly. A quick glance at the man's own computer revealed him to be the Galaga guy.

"Uh, yeah. He is." Tony replied distractedly, and was Loki still crying? His eyes looked suspiciously red.

"And he's in Norway now? Wow, is he like Flash or something?" The man asked, clearly missing the hint that Tony wasn't really in the mood to talk right now.

"Teleportation." Okay, Loki's eyes were _really_ red...and he was looking a bit blue amongst all of the snow. Do gods get frostbite? Tony hoped not.

"That's awesome. So uh... he like your partner or something? I never pictured Tony Stark getting all worried over someone. Not that I think you're a bad person." The man was hurry to correct, as if Tony would be at all offended if someone implied that he was a self-centered prick. ""It's just... unexpected."

"Yeah, well, Loki has a gift for the unexpected. I'm starting to think the whole 'God of Chaos' thing is perfectly apt." He replied, still barely paying attention to the conversation. Loki was acting strange on the screen- well, stranger than normal. He was staring at his hands with rapt attention, much like how Tony was watching him through the screen.

"So how'd you two meet? If you don't mind me asking." Didn't this guy have work to get back to? Like, making sure super-powered terrorists don't blow up New York or something?

"He totaled me car." And what was Loki doing? He finally stopped looking at his hands (they seriously looked blue. That could not be healthy) and was now surrounded by spiking magic. It pulsed brighter and brighter until watching him was like looking into a miniature sun.

Gamer boy said something else, but Tony didn't hear him as he focused on Loki again, muttering, "Loki, what are you doing? Whatever it is, it looks like a bad idea."

The magic jerked again, so bright that for a moment it completely blotted out the screen. Meanwhile the plane with the camera must have diverted its course, because in the next moment the glow was no longer in the center of the screen and all he could see was the blue of the sky and the flurry of snow.

Then the screen dipped as the plane banked sharply, and it took a moment for the wobbling to clear up enough for Tony to discern anything. It took an even longer moment for the engineer's brain to come to terms what was happening on the screen.

"Holy shit..." He breathed, and he could hear a similar sentiment being expressed by Mr. Arcade.

Before his eyes, the side of a mountain was -for the lack of a better word- exploding. Massive streaks of raw magic pounded into the rock, and everywhere they hit it was like seeing the Jericho missile all over again. It was mindless violence, angry and sporadic and- _damn_ Loki was powerful.

"Director Fury, I think you should see this." The woman said, her voice heavy with concern.

Fury looked over, and Tony watched with trepidation as he laid his eyes on Loki's destruction.

"Sir, they are requesting permission to shoot again. This is starting to overreach what's covered by the ISHS Act."

Tony remained silent, wanting to see if the SHIELD director would actually keep his word before intervening. As if Fury were reading his thoughts, the man looked over at Tony and said, "Has anyone been hurt?"

"Not as far as I can tell, no."

"Then leave him for now." Fury opened the scene on his own screen and leaned in to see it better. He had a thoughtful look on his face as he watched Loki's magic virtually obliterate tons of solid rock.

Unable to figure out exactly what Fury's game plan was, Tony allowed himself to watch the man for a minute. Despite Fury's wariness of Loki, he was still offering Loki a second chance. Were he really out for the god, nothing Tony said would stop him from trying to take Loki out. Based on his actions, it seemed more like he was testing them and trying to see what they would do. Since he wasn't baying for blood, Tony could only assume they were doing what the director wanted.

Tony turned back to his own screen to check on Loki, but other than more and more of the mountain wall turning into rubble nothing had changed. The screen wobbled and twisted as the pilot switched his object of focus from Loki to the mountain, like he couldn't figure out which he would want to his back exposed to the least.

It was almost an hour before the thick streams of magic started to dwindle, becoming more irregular and faint. The camera centered on Loki again as the destruction around him tapered off, revealing that the once bright aura that emitted from the god faded. Magic spent, the created storm also died, leaving only snow behind.

As spontaneously as it had stared, the tempest ended. Without the snow, Tony had a clear view of the god standing amidst snow. That's why he saw it clearly when Loki swayed once, twice, then collapsed bonelessly into the snow.

Tony was on his feet instantly, pushing away from the computer and heading towards the exit without a second thought. His business here was over; Loki needed him now. Fury let him go without a word.

Before he knew it Tony was at his car, reaching into the trunk to grab his briefcase. It opened and he stuck his arms in the center, letting the suit slide into position. Just as the last plate clicked, Tony was rocketing out of the garage and into the sky.

-o-o-o-

Loki wasn't moving.

That was Tony's first thought when he found the god half buried in the snow, limbs a dim blue color. Even as the Iron Man suit landed heavily a few feet away, flinging snow into the air and clanking at the impact, the god didn't so much as twitch.

For one terrifying second, Tony thought that Loki was dead.

He fell to his knees by the god's side, only dimly recognizing the fact that the plane which had been circling overhead broke its circuit and flew off. With a shaking hand he turned the god over onto his back, heart in his throat as he looked for a sign that the god was still alive.

Loki's chest fluttered as he inhaled, and Tony exhaled loudly in relief. "Oh thank god…" He didn't know what he would have done if Loki died out here, alone, while Tony had just sat and watched him slowly freeze.

Arms still shaking from the rush of adrenaline, but at least assured that the Norse god was still alive, Tony began to take stock of the rest of the situation. His attention was immediately arrested by the markings on Loki's skin, light like scars on the planes of pale blue.

"What is…?" He took off his mask to get a better look, ignoring the bitter chill against his exposed skin. It didn't look like frostbite, or even a malady at all. In fact, it looked almost like it was suppose to be like that, the smooth shade even throughout all of the visible skin.

But it wasn't normal, so Tony quickly schlucked off his glove and put his hand to the god's skin- only to yank it away as the cold instantly bit into his flesh, feeling as if he were touching liquid nitrogen instead of a living being. He swore avidly, shaking his hand as if that would dispel the frost burn.

"Sir, I would recommend not touching him with your bare flesh. Thermal scans show that his skin is -78.5 degrees Celsius."

"Yes, thank you for the warning, Jarvis. That would have been helpful to know before I got frost bite." He flexed his hand again, wincing at the blotchy red that was already forming. However his pain could wait, and he pushed the steady burning aside in favor of helping the god.

Unable to touch Loki with his bare skin, Tony put the glove back on before trying to move him. He shook Loki's shoulders, not sure if the god had blanked or just passed out. When Tony got no response, he had to thwart his panic and kept shaking the leather-clad body, calling Loki's name louder and louder.

Just as Tony was about to give up on the pretense that Loki was zoned out, the god gave a faint groan and his eye lids fluttered.

"Loki? Loki. Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Come on, you can sleep when we get back home." Tony shook him a bit harder, and finally with a deep groan Loki's green eyes opened...except for they weren't green, and Tony couldn't help but flinch slightly at the unexpected red that greeted him behind blue lids.

Luckily Loki didn't seem to notice his reaction, blinking heavily and squinting against the glare of the sun and snow. Tony repositioned himself, using his body to out the direct light and cast a shadow over Loki's face. That's when the god finally seemed to take notice of Tony, and Loki stared up at him with unfocused eyes. Concerned, Tony moved to prop the god up into a sitting position and out of the snow.

"Loki, are you okay?" Tony asked as the god struggled to remain upright, his eyes half-massed. He put a supporting hand on Loki's shoulder, holding part of the god's weight to keep him from slumping over again. Loki moaned in response, which wasn't really the answer Tony was looking for. "Loki!"

"I'm okay... I'm just tired..." The god slurred, and that Tony could see clearly. What he really wanted to know was what he couldn't see, the damage of the mind. He had fucked up earlier, and he needed to know that Loki wasn't still hurting from his emblazoned words.

Regardless of the fact that Loki looked just as burned out as he did when he first came to Tony, the engineer didn't want to wait. Not just for his own peace of mind (though that was a part of it), but because otherwise he ran the risk of Loki bolting once he was more aware of himself. If that happened, then nothing would be fixed.

"Loki..." Something in Tony's tone must have seemed alarming to the god, because he shook off his dazed expression and forced tired red eyes to focus on Tony. The engineer wanted to smile at Loki, the soft smiles that he often found himself doing without realizing it, but his guilt dragged his lips down into a frown instead. He reach out and cupped Loki's cheek, wishing he could feel the skin and not have to hide behind the barrier of metal. "Listen, I'm really, really sorry about what I said earlier. I didn't mean it... I just got so frustrated about all of this."

"Frustrated that I don't get better?" Loki said softly, his tone self-deprecating. Tony had to feeling that if Loki still had energy, this conversation wouldn't even be happening- it'd escalate into the same shouting fest from the Helicarrier. Which is why Tony had to fix any misconceptions now.

"No!" He barked, and then realized that didn't help him prove his point that he wasn't mad at Loki. He took a deep breath, aware of Loki's eyes on him, watching his every move as the god tried to ascertain just what Tony was thinking- to fuel his own self-hatred with imagined evidence.

"No." Tony repeated with a more level voice. "You've come really far since you fell here. I'd never be mad at you for that. It's that..." He paused for a moment, trying to word just why he was so angry without making it seem like he was mad at Loki. The god was always so quick to interpret things negatively. In the end he settled with, "But for all of you're progress, you aren't okay. It isn't your fault, it's just the way it is. We both want you to be better, but we can't just pretend what isn't."

Loki gave a hollow laugh, and Tony's hand tightened on Loki's arm reflexively at the dark sound. "_Why_?" He asked, voice just a tad desperate. "Why can't I pretend? If I don't act like I'm fine, then I'll _never_ have control."

"That's not true." Tony said earnestly, tilting Loki's head slightly so the god had to see the honesty in his expression. "It's acting like things are fine when they aren't that will keep you from actually getting anywhere. You'll be okay one day. Maybe not perfect, but clinging to what you lost will only drag you down." Tony had learned that the hard way, when he tried to act like Afghanistan changed nothing- when he pushed people away when they tried to help, when he couldn't sleep from fear of nightmares, when he had immersed himself so thoroughly in being Iron Man the man inside had momentarily ceased to exist. That wasn't the fate he wanted for Loki.

It took a moment for Loki to respond, his eyes shifting to the left as he avoided looking at Tony. "I don't want to be like this anymore." Loki whispered brokenly, and if Tony weren't in the suit he would have hugged the god tightly. Even then he pulled Loki to lean against him, and the god slumped exhaustedly into him.

"I know," Tony replied. "I know."

For a few minutes they just sat there together, their silence amicable instead of oppressive. It was a taciturn truce, and Tony was beyond relieved that Loki wasn't still furious at him, that things were still good between the two of them. Eventually though, Tony had to put an end to their chick-flick moment, the cold making his ears numb and his nose run.

"Alright, as much fun are the cold is, we need to get going. I'm going to freeze if we stay any longer." Loki didn't so much as shift. "Loki?" Tony reached over to pull the god back into a sitting position, and the touch finally prompted the god to move.

Bleary red eyes blinked up at the engineer, and Tony realized that at this point the god was more asleep than not. Which Tony didn't know if that was concerning or amusing, because either the god was getting hypothermia and passing out or he really was so unbothered by the cold that he could fall asleep half lying in snow.

Not really thinking about what he was saying, Tony asked, "How come you aren't cold? Is it because you're blue?"

Tony didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't the reaction he got. Loki's eyes went wide, and in a sharp move he put a hand before his face. His red eyes stared at the blue skin in what looked like horror, and that's when Tony clicked that this was the same thing Loki had done before he went ballistic.

"Oh..." The god breathed, as if he hadn't realized his skin was still blue... and judging by how out of it he was, he probably hadn't. Loki looked up from his hands to Tony then back to his hands, as if they had somehow betrayed him.

"_Oh_." Loki breathed again, the blood draining from his face. Then the god's red eyes rolled up into his head as he passed out. Tony reached out quickly to grab him before he tilted back into the snow, and Loki rested limply against his arm.

"Right... I'm going to guess this has something to do with why you don't like the color blue." Tony said to the unconscious god, making a mental note to try and research it. At least now he had some basis as the why the color drove the god up the wall, although why blue skin was so upsetting he didn't know. Judging by Loki's reaction, there was a long story behind it, one Tony intended to know.

Until then, he needed to call in for one of his personal jets to fly over here, because there was no way he was carrying the god all the way back to California from Norway.

-o-o-o-

Loki knew he was dreaming.

Yet that fact did nothing to quell the horror as warm blood splattered against his icy skin, the temperature difference burning him. Despite the pain, he didn't withdraw his arm from the chest it was lodged it; not even as his mind cried, 'Stop! I don't want to kill him!'

Surrounded by barren frost, the cold of Loki's skin overpowered the heat of the body, and he could feel the liquid freeze almost instantly. A familiar scream, one that he dreaded hearing but couldn't always avoid, rung in his ears as Loki's arm froze inside of a rapidly cooling chest.

Loki knew he had to be dreaming, because there was no way someone could be alive with a Jotun's arm shoved elbow deep between their lungs, radiating frost and blackening any living tissue. But in this nightmare, Loki could still feel the thrumming of a heart brushing against his forearm, fluttering softly with every weak beat. And even though he had destroyed the lungs as he punched his arm through, the man still screamed while his flesh blackened and died, the decay spreading outwards.

It took what seemed like an eternity for that faint pulsing against his skin to fade away, the muscle becoming rigid and frozen. He had tried to pull away, to stop what he was doing, but he didn't have control of his own body. It was only when the screams had ended that Loki could pull his arm out, letting the dead body fall to the snow covered ground.

Lifeless blue eyes stared back at him: wide, glassy, and unblinking. Though the mind that controlled them was dead, it was like the eyes were staring into Loki's soul and judging him.

Loki didn't need to hear any words to know that those dim blue eyes didn't like what they saw.

At his back, there was an explosion of rowdy jeers and taunts. The voices were deep, guttural, and barbaric as they mocked the dead body.

"Look at the Asgard scum now! He wasn't so tough!"

"He was a shame amongst gods!"

"Not so fine are you now, huh? Disgusting wretch!"

They laughed as one, but Loki did not join them. He kept staring into the eyes that looked into his, soft blue meeting jaded red. On his skin he could still feel the iced bits of blood, and the sensation made his flesh craw.

'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.' His mind repeated over and over as he stared down and Thor's dead face, the final expression of agony forever locked in place.

The dead eyes just stared back at him, unforgiving. 'You did this to me,' they said. 'You killed me with your own hand.'

'Murderer.' Loki's own mind chanted in agreement, and the feeling of his brother's dying heart brushing against his arm echoed across his skin.

Revulsion settled heavy in Loki's stomach, burning hot and vile within him. Every repeated hiss of 'murderer', every vulgar word from the crowd behind him, every second looking into dead eyes, added to the churning mess inside of Loki until he couldn't hold it back anymore. He doubled over violently, putrid bile spewing from bloodless lips. The vomit splashed across the snow, illogically hot even though Loki was so cold inside.

The vindictive crowing behind him cut off when Loki heaved, and for a moment the only sound was the expulsion of guilty bile. When his stomach was empty, the noise morphed into dry heaves that sounded more like choked sobs. Over the sound of Loki's panting breaths the vituperative shouting picked up again, and this time their cruel words were directed at him.

"Worthless runt!"

"We should have just left you to die!"

"Nobody wants you, weakling!"

Then before he could react, someone shoved Loki from behind. But instead of falling into the icy, red snow, he continued to fall into nothingness.

'No!' His mind screamed at the inky black that loomed before him, and he twisted around to try and grab something, anything, so he wouldn't be left in the black. His hands found nothing. Instead it was his eyes that caught sight, not of the Jotuns or Thor's impaled body, but Odin.

Even though Loki could feel himself falling farther into the emptiness-which only added to the fact that he was dreaming, because in the void he never felt like his guts were trying to burst from his throat. It was always just stillness and suffocation, the fall a purely metaphorical sensation- the image of Odin never receded or fade. He just kept looking down at Loki, a disappointed frown on his face.

"Father, help me!" Loki cried up at him, pushing away his anger in lieu of his desperation to get out of the abyss. When felt something grab onto his arm, invisible in the thick of the void, he screamed louder, "Father!"

But Odin just kept staring at him, face devoid of any love or sympathy. Then he finally spoke, but all he said was, "No, Loki" before vanishing into the darkness, and Loki was abandoned once again.

More hands shot out from the abyss to grasp at him, claws trying to burrow in beneath his skin. Loki shrieked even louder, until suddenly there wasn't any air in his lungs. He choked and gasped, but no matter how much he lungs heaved there was no air. The hands that clung to him were frantic now, yanking him deeper and deeper into the nothingness. Loki fought them as hard as he could, trying futilely to get air back into his lungs, but every time he shook them off they came right back. His body shook, but whether it was from the fear of the creatures grabbing at him he did not know.

"Loki!"

His name echoed into the pit, sounding almost as panicked and desperate as he was. Loki tried to respond, tried to cry out for help, but his lungs had shriveled beneath his ribs.

"Loki!"

The beasts pulled on him harder, and Loki swore he could feel their teeth brushing against his skin; they were eager to rip into muscle and rend his flesh from bone. Eager to devour him, feast upon his body and mind, consume him although he was unable to die.

Then his nerves exploded with pain as the beasts dug in, gripping tight and tearing and pulling and-

Loki woke with violent jerk, agonized scream flowing soundlessly from parted lips. His lungs burned and his heart pounded; he gulped down air like a drowning man. It took a minute before he could breathe freely, the vestiges of panic leaving him disorientated.

"It's okay, it was just a nightmare. Remember, you're safe here. It's not going to happen again." Tony's voice murmured soothingly over the pounding beats of Loki's heart. That was when the god realized that he was wrapped in Tony's arm as the man whispered a constant stream of reassurances to him. Taking comfort in the fact that he was not alone, Loki pulled himself back together and tried to figure out where he was.

The dim light and emerald walls, as well as Tony's warm presence beside him, clearly told his agitated mind that he wasn't in his void. It took a bit more shuffling through his memory for it to click that this was the bedroom that Tony had given to Loki.

He was home.

Tony stopped talking as Loki pulled back slightly, reducing the distance between the two but not leaving the comfort the other man offered quite yet.

Swallowing loudly, Loki tried to push back down the nausea and fear. "Tony..." He said, throat raw and voice grated. He swallowed again and repeated it, "Tony."

"You know, I think that's the first time you've called me that." The man said lightly in an effort to reduce the tension. He reached up and brushed the tears from Loki's face, and the god turned slightly into the touch. "You want to talk about it?"

He didn't, and just thinking about the hollow eyes of his brother and the heart he silenced made his stomach wrench... but he had told himself, lying in the snow, that he would try to not pretend anymore. For Tony's sake, he wouldn't hide anymore.

So instead of diverting to conversation or clamming up, Loki mustered up the courage to actually say the truth. "Tony... I'm not okay."

The other man looked taken aback for a moment, like the quiet admission was the last thing he had been expecting to hear, but then his expression softened.

"No, you're not." Tony agreed. He gave Loki's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "But one day you will be."


	8. Chapter 8

"_Catch me, heal me, lift me back up to the sun,__  
__Help me survive the bottom.__  
__Calm these hands before they snare another pill,  
__And drive another nail down another needy hole.  
__Please __release me._

_I am surrendering to gravity and the unknown.__  
__Catch me, heal me, lift me back up to the sun,__  
__I choose to live, I choose to live._"

-o-o-o-

"_Has he lost his mind? Can he see or is he blind? Can he walk at all, or if he moves will he fall?_"

A loud exclamation of "Gah!" could be heard over the blaring music, followed by a large crash.

Tony blinked dazedly up at the ceiling from the floor, a thick emerald bed cover pooled around him. The loud music continued over the speakers, effectively pushing away any lingering exhaustion Tony may have had.

"_Is he alive or dead? Has he thoughts within his head? We'll just pass him there. Why should we even care?_"

"Jesus, Jarv! I'm up already! Turn that off!" He shouted over the roar of Black Sabbath, struggling to extract his legs from the bedding.

"_He was turned to steel-_"

The abrupt silence was nearly as startling as the music had been, and not for the first time Tony cursed the fact that he programmed Jarvis to be so much like him. The apple didn't fall far from the tree, after all... except for Dum-E. He fell from the tree, rolled down a hill, and was carted off by a raccoon. But that's different.

"My apologies, sir." The AI didn't sound apologetic at all. "I thought you would find the choice of music fitting."

"Yeah, 'Iron Man'. Haha, like I haven't heard that joke before." Tony replied dryly, finally disentangling himself from the comforter. He got to his feet and rubbed at his bruised elbow, scowling down at the floor like it was its fault he catapulted himself from the bed. When it didn't catch fire or beg for his forgiveness, he gave up glaring at it and instead glared at where he knew one of Jarvis's cameras was. After another few moments of trying to win a staring contest with the invisible camera, he finally gave up and asked, "What gives? Why'd you wake me up? ...Is New York being attacked again? Because that's just getting ridiculous."

"Not at all, sir. As of three seconds ago, there is no unusual activity in New York." When Jarvis wasn't any more forthcoming, Tony shot the camera a dirty look while he dropped the comforter back onto the mattress.

"You want to elaborate?"

For a moment Tony almost thought the AI would say 'no', but- ever the faithful program- Jarvis eventually complied. "It is past noon, and Loki requested that you no longer occupy his room."

"Huh…" Tony took a closer look at the room and realized it actually was Loki's, with the dark colors and lack of windows. "I forgot that this wasn't my room," he verbalized. Seeing as how he normally ended up passed out in his lab, or was otherwise distracted while using his own bed. But sure enough, he had been snuggled up in Loki's bed, even though the god was conspicuously absent. Which actually… "He's awake? Like, really awake?"

"Yes, sir. He woke up about an hour ago."

"Why didn't you harass me sooner then?" Tony bolted for the door and rushed down the hall, even though wasn't actually sure where the god was. Making a guess, he headed down towards the lab. Since Jarvis wasn't correcting him, he figured he was going the right way.

"Loki asked me not to. He requested to spend some time alone, and I thought you could use the extra rest. Was that the wrong decision, sir?"

"No, that's fine." He was quick to assure the AI before Jarvis could start berating himself. Besides, for once he actually did feel rested. That pervasive exhaustion he was always use to feeling had dissipated, and the extra energy did wonders for his mood. Even so, that Loki specifically asked to be alone for a bit was worrying...but he did just tell Jarvis to get Tony up, which meant something had changed.

Well, he was almost to where the god was, and in the meantime he had some much needed bickering to get back to. "I didn't, however, appreciate the wakeup call. Do something else next time."

Tony entered the lab while Jarvis answered with a suave, "Of course, sir," which just promised that Jarvis would come up with something even more obnoxious next time. Tony bet the AI never woke Loki up so rudely.

Speaking of which, a quick peek around the room revealed that the god was nowhere to be seen. In fact, it didn't look like he had been there at all.

"Jarvis, where's Loki?" Tony frowned, and he felt his good mood start to sour. He tried to ignore the trill of fear at not knowing where the god was. Things were good between them; Loki wouldn't run off… right?

"He's standing on the roof at the moment, sir." Right, Loki didn't run off. The panic inside of Tony's chest cooled, replaced instead by harmless annoyance.

"The roof? You didn't tell me that before I came all the way down here because...?" Because Tony was a terrible influence on his children, that's why.

"You did not ask, sir."

"Oh shut up, you little troll. You knew I was looking for him." Tony stalked back up the stairs and past Loki's room, heading in the opposite direction towards where the elevator was. Jarvis remained quiet, though Tony knew if he had programmed the AI to laugh he probably would be. Even then, Tony bet Jarvis was doing the robotic equivalent of a chuckle somewhere inside of his script.

The delay to reach the god, as well as the fact the Loki was outside- which set off all kinds of warning bells, because he normally avoided the overexposure of noise and blue and the heavy scent of salt- made Tony antsy. He twitched impatiently as the elevator doors closed, resisting the urge to ask what Loki was doing.

If Jarvis wasn't saying anything- and despite his recent lack of cooperation, he would say something if he thought Loki was at risk- then Tony should leave it be. While more harrowing than he would of liked, Loki's little snow storm at least taught him something that he had always known but never really grasped: Loki was a _god_. Sure, Tony referred to him as such, but it had just become a word. 'God' simply meant 'Loki', not 'a powerhouse that could kill someone without even lifting a finger'.

For all that Loki acted like he was okay, Tony equally acted like he was helpless, and while that may have been true in those first few months, it wasn't anymore. In his moments of lucidity- that finally happened more often than not- Loki didn't need nor want Tony to baby him. It was time that Tony understood that and let the god regain some independence… though that didn't mean he'd keep Jarvis from closely watching Loki' every move and reporting in, because there was a difference between easing up and being stupid.

When the heavy metal doors slid open, the wide expanse of the sky greeted him. Now that Tony has seen the soft blue of Loki's skin- that had only vanished after Tony had gotten the god out of the snow and into a warmer climate- he could see the parallels between the colors. The shades weren't exact, but on a cloudless day like this the comparison was still eerily similar. At least, that's how Tony assumed it was for the god. While startling and a bit unusual, Tony couldn't say he found the idea of Loki with an odd skin color 'eerie'. The frost bite effect, on the other hand, was; Tony's hand still stung from just the one touch, the pads of his hand blistering and peeling.

Tony pulled his eyes away from the blue and sought out Loki. He found the god standing on the other side of the roof, feet right on the edge; just one step forwards would send him toppling into the ocean. Tony's previous mirth faded a bit at the sight of Loki standing there, a picturesque scene of solemnity. Not to mention that Tony clearly remembered what happened last time the god tried to stand and watch the outside scenery, and it wasn't pretty.

Anxious and worried, Tony started heading out to where Loki was imitating a statue. The god didn't acknowledge him even as he came to a stop by Loki's side; his eyes remained firmly fixed on the horizon, where the soft roll of the sea met the overhanging stillness.

Taking his cues from Loki, even though every instinct screamed to remove the god from what had to be a stressful situation, Tony remained silent as they stood side by side. However, instead of watching the crawling surf he watched Loki, indiscreetly soaking in every detail he could see.

There were still dark bags under the god's eyes, testament to just how deep his exhaustion ran. Apparently using up almost every ounce of magic you had took a lot out a person, because Loki had slept four for days straight, waking only the once on the second day when he had a nightmare (and Tony could sympathize with why the god only slept when he had too, when everytime he tried he woke screaming. This time was worse- understandably so, because Tony was such a screw up- but even then it was always bad enough to frighten the god awake; often he looked more exhausted upon waking than he did before he succumbed to his fatigue, for even in his sleep he could not outrun his demons).

Still, Loki was back to his normal pale, and not the deathly white he had been just coming from Norway. The long sleep did its job in getting to god back on his feet, even though after the first day Tony had been beyond concerned. He really needed to learn more about the physiology of his friend, so the next time Loki went all Mr. Comatose and blue, Tony had more choices than just hover like a nervous wreck.

(What if Loki had died because Tony was missing some key detail, and he just sat around and watched while the god wasted away?)

"It would be so easy." Loki spoke abruptly, voice thick. The sudden sound startled Tony; the god hadn't even turned to look at him. He spoke into the open air, as if it would know what he meant with his heavy words.

Confused by the nonsensical admission, Tony was about to ask for clarification when Loki continued, "Jumping off and giving in, it'd be easy." Oh... well that made more sense. In a horrible, 'I never want Loki to be thinking that' kind of way, at least. Then the god huffed, the sound failing to even be a mockery of a laugh. "At least I had thought it would be, but I was so_ wrong_. Last time I tried to just let go, I ended up like this." One hand made a stilted, derisive gesture at his weakened body. " I sought to run from my problems, and I only made things worse."

Loki went quiet again, resolutely not meeting Tony's eyes even though the man was now staring holes into the side of the god's face. Eventually giving up, Tony gazed back out into the distance, though he didn't actually see the ocean before him. He knew what Loki was doing by keeping a sort of barrier between them, and he accepted the degree of detachment Loki sought to instill.

When Pepper had forced Tony to talk to a therapist, he'd done the same thing- avoided looking into their eyes for fear of their reaction, for fear of breaking down and being unable to pull the pieces back together again. So if Loki was willing to take the step to share the story of his fall, then Tony wouldn't ruin that. It was just his job to listen.

Though after a moment it became clear the god wasn't going to continue, lost to his thoughts and hesitant to continue voicing them. Finally Tony prompted him. "Do you still want to die?"

He would give anything for the answer to be 'no'.

But of course, Loki replied with a steady, "Yes," barely having to think about it. With the god being just a mere instant away from a few hundred feet drop into the Pacific, it really was not a reassuring answer. What followed, however, was- if only a little bit. "I won't try again. Falling solved nothing, and I have no intention of trying again. Knowing my luck, I'd only make things even worse."

"This fall... what happened?" Tony hedged, and finally Loki looked over at him. His eyes were wide, unguarded, and in them Tony swore he could actually see every regret- the little chips that built the chasm. Then Loki swayed slightly, nearly stepping off the roof as he tried to regain his balance.

Whether the weariness was mental of physical, Tony didn't know. And right now, it didn't really matter. He gripped Loki's elbow and guided the god into a sitting position, overly aware of the crashing waves beneath their feet. Loki complied, less than gracefully slumping next to Tony; they sat side by side as they overlooked the coast of the Pacific.

Again it took a moment for Loki to reply, but Tony didn't rush him. Spilling your guts was a bitch, after all, and the idiom wasn't very far off about how it felt.

"I'm not Asgardian. For my entire life I thought I was; there was no reason to think otherwise, and no one told me. They wouldn't have, either, not until it was beneficial to them." If words could drip bitter hatred, then Loki's were doing just that. It made the hero in Tony- no, Tony himself, because there was no distinction between him and Iron Man- want to run off and pummel whoever put that malice there, because it was an animosity that spoke of torment. Yet Tony kept himself calm, breathing heavily in and out. Loki would only feed off his agitation, heightening his enmity into that furious coldfire.

"It wasn't until we went to Jotunheim that I figured it out. It was nothing more than an accident, and yet it changed _everything_." Loki's voice was like a roller coaster, picking up in ferocity only to tumble back down to self-loathing and despair. "It made so much sense then, why Odin always loved Thor the most, why I was always looked down at. Because I was nothing more than the unwanted spawn of a _frost giant_."

The last word brought Loki's tone back to a hiss, and while Tony didn't know what a 'frost giant' was, it was obviously something that meant a _lot_ to Loki. More than a lot, really, if being one was what ruined the god's life.

"Is that why you had blue skin in the snow? It's a frost giant thing, not an Asgard thing?" Truthfully, Tony had thought that maybe it was just a natural alien thing. Which would have made sense, really, because for an alien race they were way too human. Something strange like temperature reactive skin would have been fitting, and certainly a lot more interesting. That it wasn't... it did explain a few things.

Loki curled up on himself at the reminder that Tony had seen the color difference. Continuing with the erratic mood swings (that Tony thought were awfully telling, in a twisted kind of way. Every confliction- the anger, remorse, loathing, and despair- simply fueled the instability that plagued the god, and it became more and more obvious why Loki was so shattered, so fragmented) the fire of self-hatred turned into shame.

"I cannot keep from shifting back to a Jotun in the cold. The form you see now is the lie, the illusion. It is because my skin turned blue without any consent from me that I realized there is something very wrong with me."

Tony wanted to interrupt, to tell Loki that even if he was a 'yo-tin' it wasn't a defect. Regardless of how Asgard viewed it, Loki would always being Loki in Tony's eyes, and the fact that his skin was blue and cold enough to freeze flesh was inconsequential.

But Loki was on a roll, the anger taking another turn. "I confronted my fa- _Odin_ about it. He told me I was abandoned- left to die- and so he took me with him after the war was over. But Odin lacks compassion, and I was merely to be a pawn for negotiations with Jotunheim." Loki's jaw trembled, as if it were painful just for the words to pass over his tongue and through his lips. "My entire life he led me on, telling me I could be king, that I was his _son_."

"And then…then he collapsed, falling into a healing sleep. So many questions were left unanswered, and all I had was the throne he never wanted to give me. I was furious, until I realized that this was the opportunity I needed. Thor was gone, banished through my own machinations, and now I could finally prove that I was a worthy son."

It was just like Howard Stark, where nothing Tony did was ever good enough. Just replace Stark Industries with all of Asgard and it was the same story, the same disappointment, only on a larger scale.

"I thought that if I destroyed Jotunheim and put a final end to the war, my father would see that I was more than just a monster."

A much, much larger scale, apparently, and the implications made Tony feel sick. Loki was talking _genocide_. And as much as Tony loved the god, for all he was willing to forgive him, the very idea made his throat tighten and his stomach churn. _That_ was Loki at his breaking point, and it was a _monster_.

"Then I failed to kill Thor and he stopped me, the golden hero saving the day." He sounded bitter, and Tony prayed that it was just Thor he was mad at, and that he didn't regret failing. Because 'Loki, Destroyer of Worlds' was not something Tony felt comfortable with. It was his purpose in life to stop people like that, who used their power for such selfish reasons.

Loki glanced up at Tony then, and the horror must have been clear, because he quickly looked away. With a bowed head and clenched hands, Loki beseeched, "I was wrong. I know that now. If you cannot forgive my actions, I will understand. Some mistakes are too grievous to seek forgiveness for."

But it was obvious to Tony that forgiveness was exactly what Loki wanted, even if he thought himself unworthy of it- forgiveness from Tony, from Thor, from Odin. And while Tony didn't know if Loki's family would be willing to give it, he was. Because it was wrong, and that mistake would always remain on Loki's ledger, but that didn't mean he didn't deserve a second chance.

"We all make mistakes, and sometimes we don't even realize it until we're forced to." 'Merchant of Death' rang clearly in his mind. "It doesn't mean there can't be forgiveness, or at the very least repentance."

"Iron Man," Loki murmured, and Tony nodded even though the god wouldn't see it.

"Saving others doesn't fix the damage I caused, but it evens out the balance. And that's really all you can hope to do." This time it was Loki who nodded, a jagged, sorrowful gesture that said more than words ever could.

Satisfied that Loki got what he was trying to say, Tony brought them back to the original topic. "So what happened, after Thor stopped you?"

Loki took a shuddering breath. "In order to stop the Bifrost from ravaging Jotunheim, Thor had to destroy it. The blasts sent us both over the edge of the bridge, but Odin caught us before we could…" Then that tentative control broke, and the god faltered. Loki blinked rapidly, and his chin quivered. He opened his mouth a few times, but he just could not get the words out.

After a moment, he gave up and dropped whatever it was he struggled to say. "I held onto Gungnir, and I begged my father for acceptance. But all I did was prove to Odin that I was no better than a Jotun savage, using the first chance I could get to spread destruction. He told me 'no', and I finally realized I wasn't ever going to be good enough. Nothing I do will ever make me his son."

"So I let go, and I fell." Loki's eyes screwed shut, and his fingers uncurled to burrow into his hair. He tugged sharply, as if trying to expel the very remembrance from his mind. "I thought I would die."

"But you didn't." Tony stated the obvious, and suddenly every little piece fell into place, painting a vivid, terrifying picture.

"No, but every moment I spent in…_there_, I wished I did." Loki fell silent, and once again he fought to voice the thing that obliterated him. "The void was..." He swallowed, and tears leaked from his eyes. Tony noticed the god's hands start to shake, and he quietly reached out to grab Loki's right hand. He gave it a reassuring squeeze, and after a moment Loki squeezed back.

"There was nothing. Absolutely _nothing_. No light. No sound. No _air_." He choked out the last bit, as if the mere recollection made him breathless. And maybe it did, Tony realized, thinking of all the times Loki suffocated as he became lost in his mind. "It was so, so empty. I tried to escape, but I _couldn't_. No matter what I tried, I couldn't get out."

"You're out of there now." Tony said, but his words seemed hollow even to him. What did it matter, if the damage was already done?

"Not before it destroyed my mind." Loki murmured, echoing Tony's dark sentiment. Loki reflexively tightened his grip on Tony's hand until it hurt, but the man didn't pull away. He just provided his support, even as Loki went quiet again and this time couldn't bring himself to continue.

They sat together for a long time, and Tony resisted the urge to get up and get something to drink. Moments like these were never something he wanted to face sober, yet somehow he managed to drink less when Loki was around, even when everyday was binge worthy. It was just another one of those small things that had changed when the god showed up, and Tony couldn't really say he minded.

It wasn't until the sun switched to the other side of the sky and Tony's butt was extremely sore that Loki snapped out of that dark place in his mind where no one could follow. He shifted slightly, drawing Tony's attention.

"You alright?" He asked as Loki looked over at him, face calm except for the residual salt streaks.

The god nodded and then stood, all smooth grace and fluidity. Tony on the other hand winced as he clambered onto his feet, legs horribly stiff. Loki watched him as he stretched out his limbs, and Tony felt obligated to say, "Getting old sucks."

Loki didn't laugh at the joke; rather it seemed like something darkened in his expression, but it was gone so quickly that Tony thought maybe he had just imagined it. Especially when Loki's next statement was light, a far cry from the previous confession.

"I believe I am done with the...what did you call them? 'Chick-flick moments'?"

Tony barked a laugh, a bit surprised at the sudden mood change but not at all displeased. If the god was just acting collected then sure, he'd resist the humor, but Loki actually seemed content. Not just on the surface, but as if a large weight had been removed from his shoulders. And sure, content and happy were two very different things, but it was certainly a big step in the right direction.

"Yeah, I can't deny things have been a bit mushy lately. You sure you don't really have a pair of boobs?" Tony gave Loki's flat chest an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle, glad to leave the stress behind for a bit.

Instead of rising to the bait, Loki tilted his head slightly and said, "I have spent many years in the form of a woman. Though I can't say the addition of breasts made any difference in personality."

Tony's jaw went slack. "You...really?" Automatically his mind was flooded with images of the god as a busty chick. The man certainly was feminine enough, what with his hair going down to his hips. "You'd think I'd stop being surprised be these things," he managed to get out between laughing fits.

The god just gave him a blank look, and with an embarrassed cough- he really hasn't gone out and enjoyed the wonders of California enough these days. It was hard to have fun when every day he worried that SHIELD would come barging into his home- he continued, "You feeling up to working in the lab with me? I could use some hardcore science right about now."

And some hardcore alcohol, and then when he was sure Loki was okay he really needed to indulge in some hardcore iniquity. Now that the danger was over, it was time to lose some steam. As Pepper would tell him, 'stressing out doesn't help anyone. You should slow down and take care of yourself sometimes'... Though she meant do yoga or something, but hey- if it works, it works.

"For a little bit." Loki replied and moved to follow Tony back towards the elevator.

"What, no teleporting?" Tony asked when Loki actually got in the elevator with him. Normally the god just showed up wherever he wanted to be, like walking was too plebeian for him.

The look Loki gave him clearly said 'you claim to be a genius, use your brain every once and a while'. "My magic is exhausted. It would be foolish to waste it on such small endeavors before it replenishes."

Tony's mouth made a little 'o', and yeah, that should have been obvious. Since, you know, he just spent four days freaking out about it. "Well, nothing wrong with doing things the human way for a bit."

He ignored Loki's mumbles that sounded quite a bit like 'of course there is'.

Continuing, he edged a bit into more serious territory. "Director Fury called a few times when you were asleep. It was nothing bad." Tony assured when Loki glanced up sharply. "Most of it was just him getting crabby because I managed to sneak Jarvis into their system. He does want to talk to you again though, this time without the stick up his ass. But we'll be talking to him from here, especially since the Helicarrier isn't even on this coast anymore."

"That is probably for the best." Loki conceded, and Tony remembered how terrified Loki had looked when they had driven before, curled up and quivering in the back seat. Every time they passed through a busy street, or people started honking at the traffic, Tony thought the god was going to meld with the upholstery. Taking things slowly was definitely for the best.

They made their way down to the lab, and after Tony entered the code he gestured Loki in with a grand sweep of his arm. "Ladies first," he joked, smirking at the dirty look Loki shot him as walked by. Then there was an excited series of beeps coming from farther inside the room, and his smirk softened into a smile.

Dum-E came flying into view, a cleaning rag still clutched in his hand. His camera swung sporadically back and forth, searching the room, and when he caught sight of Loki he chirped even louder. The robot rushed forwards; in his eagerness to reach the god he rammed into no less than three tables and nearly knocked a shelf over.

As the excitable robot made his mad dash over, Loki had stopped walking and watched. His expression softened, and while Tony wouldn't necessarily say Loki was smiling, it was getting there.

When Dum-E failed to slow down quick enough and barreled into Loki's side, the god just eased him back a foot then patted him. Addressing the old AI, he said, "My apologies; it's been a while since I've been well enough to come down here."

Tony thought he probably wasn't well enough even now, with a light sheen of sweat on his brow and the dark smudges beneath his eyes. The god had some panda imitation going on, and there was no way he wasn't still feeling lingering angst. Admitting he had a problem didn't make that problem just magically go away, and Loki was probably getting closer and closer to blanking out.

Still, it was closer to peace then they had been, and so Tony was willing to smile for both of them. "Aww, Dum-E, no love for me?" Tony joked when his oldest barely even seemed to notice him, too absorbed in showing his cleaning rag to Loki like it was an Olympic metal.

Dum-E turned to him and, after a moments consideration, reached out to try and clean Tony's face with the cloth. Tony squawked at the sudden assault and nearly fell over trying to avoid it, but the robot succeed in rubbing the oil stained rag across the top of Tony's head, making his still sleep mussed hair even messier. Pleased with his display of continued affection, the robot chirped loudly then turned back to Loki.

"That's so unfair." Tony complained, noting that Dum-E didn't attack the god with the dirty rag.

His complaints were empty though, and he was glad that there was someone else Loki was comfortable with… or maybe not. Though equipped with artificial intelligence, Dum-E was still a robot. He was confined to the contents of his code, and lacked the mobility to leave the lab and garage.

What Tony really needed to do was get Pepper over here again so Loki would become use to being with people. He would also like to see her as well; it's been a while since she has had the time to visit. All of the recent terrorist attacks, a la Doom, have been crippling business in New York. Stark Tower has not been exempt from the damage; if anything, Doom actually aims for it to show just how pleased he is that Iron Man breaks his toys all the time.

...Or, you know, Tony was still digging the cat idea. A cat had a pulse _and_ wouldn't be distracted by economic crisis. It was two in one.

"You'll live," was Loki's unsympathetic reply as he finally nudged the excited robot out of the main walkway. Dum-E hounded their steps as they headed to the work desk; pieces of the Dragon Slayer were still resting where they had been abandoned mid-project. When they passed the fridge Tony took a quick detour, pulling some scotch out before rejoining Loki.

The god was studying the bits of machine that were scattered about, and when Tony came up he said, "You didn't work on it while I was asleep."

While Tony knew it was a statement and not a question- Jarvis did a good job in keeping the god informed, after all- he still answered, "No, I didn't. The Slayer was at least thirty-eight percent your project, so you needed to be around to evaluate how well that thirty-eight performed."

"Fifty-six." Was the retort, but Loki sounded grateful that the engineer didn't move on without him. It was hard to feel satisfied with yourself when you lagged behind.

"If that's what makes you happy, princess. Jarvis, why don't you open where we left off?" The screens came alive with a variety of footage, and Tony grabbed the nearest chair to plop down and kick back. Beside him Loki pulled up his cushioned throne, sagging tiredly into the plush. Tony doubled checked that the god had the energy work then the video started playing, leaving them to analyze the pandemonium.

Loki lasted longer than Tony was expecting him to, proving once again to Tony that the god really was more durable then he was given credit for. However, a few hours in he did falter, going blank while he was trying to explain an anomaly in the Doombot's strategy. No longer armed with stubborn determination, it wasn't long after that Loki slipped into unconsciousness, where it didn't matter if his mind was mired in fog or not. And that was great, because Loki really needed the extra rest, but then that left Tony to get him back upstairs… and that wasn't so great.

After trying futilely to lift the sleeping god from the chair, Tony eventually had to give up and get the Iron Man suit just to carry Loki upstairs. Which seemed excessive, but really wasn't. Aliens had to have bones made out of lead or something, because _damn_ Loki's heavy.

-o-o-o-

"-and I don't care what your justification is this time. If you dick with him, I _will_ make you regret it." Loki could hear Tony say- well, not so much 'say' as 'tried to shout angrily while keeping his voice down'- faintly from his room down the hall.

An even fainter voice replied, "I have already told you, I just need to talk to him. He's the only one with any real information on Asgard or Thanos. Quit being an overprotective sissy and get the man on the line."

"Not until I'm sure you won't pull another sadistic trick!" Tony growled loudly, before he quieted himself again, as if that would keep Loki from overhearing. "Last time was a mistake. You're lucky things didn't go worse, or I'd be telling you and SHIELD to go shove it up your ass. If you purposely overwhelm him or don't stop if he gets upset-"

"Jarvis, could you please tell Tony that I can hear everything he's saying, and that I'm old enough to handle my own affairs?" He said over the engineer's continued threats and Fury's equally unamused reply.

"Of course, sir." Jarvis told him while Loki couldn't simultaneously hear his voice coming from Tony's room, repeating his message verbatim. There was silence for a moment, then Tony's avid swearing as well as a few unruly comments on 'damn aliens and their damn superhuman capabilities'.

"Jarvis, put Fury on hold for a minute. I have to go talk to Loki about respecting peoples' privacy." A door slammed open, and the sound of footsteps approached where Loki was calmly drinking a decidedly bland protein shake. He didn't bother looking up as Tony stormed in, not at all concerned that the man was annoyed. That was more of Fury's fault than his anyway, and really, Loki would be angry after talking to the man as well. First impressions aside, he and the director really didn't end their brief acquaintance on a good note.

"Dude, what the hell? You've had bat ears this entire time and you didn't tell me? Oh god… I'm so glad I stopped bringing my one-night stands home when you came here. Seriously, not cool. That's like major fly on the wall." Tony started complaining before he even caught sight of the god, and when he did he just kept right on going, gesturing wildly- a mannerism he always does when unsettled- while he walked. "It's just creepy. You need to keep a hedge in between, and all that."

"I fail to see why it's my fault that your walls are flimsy and you talk too loud." Loki replied, indulging for just a moment in the carefree humor that followed Stark. But that wasn't what he wanted the man for, and he had to push the bantering aside. Later, he promised himself. Later they would take the time to slow down, after this matter with SHIELD and their alien paranoia was finished.

"I'll be okay talking to Director Fury, you know. He's right, you're being irrational about this. What happened last time won't happen again. If nothing else, Jarvis could cut him off."

Or if it did happen again, Loki wouldn't bother keeping himself in line. If Director Fury thought that Loki would bend to his whims, he was wrong. No more hiding, and no more rolling over.

Tony seemed torn between continuing his rant about the eavesdropping, or letting the conversation sober up. He pointed at Loki and opened his mouth to say something, but then he seemed to slump in on himself, sighing quietly. Again Loki thought that they had to hold on just a bit longer, then he could let the harsh worry lines on the man's face fade.

"You said you wouldn't rush things-"

"And I'm not." Loki cut him off. "Talking to Fury will be easier than deploying the Dragon Slayer was," (which was both an exercise in triumph and defeat, because while Loki was proud to help flawlessly defeat Tony's enemy, it was only Jarvis's attentive screening that kept him from being overwhelmed; telling himself he'd get better could only dull the ache of incompetence so much), "and I assure you I won't let myself be manipulated again- not when I now I know approximately how much leeway SHIELD will give us."

Even though Tony clearly didn't like it, he gave in to Loki's logic and said, "Alright Jarv, put Oscar the Grouch back on."

It took a moment for Fury to speak again, and Loki noted with some amusement that the man must have relocated; there wasn't as much background noise this time. While he hadn't been able to overhear things through the speakers anyway- they weren't good enough to preserve that kind of sound quality- he had no problem letting Fury think he could. Let the man stew. It was a petty revenge for what Fury had done to him, but since he didn't have many choices he'd take what he could get.

When the man did get on the line, he was as fiery as ever. "Stark, be glad you actually have a brain in your skull, or you'd be arrested for obstruction of government function before you could blink."

"Do you ever get tired of being so grumpy all the time? Have a beer, get laid. It does wonders for your blood pressure." Tony drawled as he reached over to swipe Loki's drink. The god let him, and when Tony took a large gulp it took only a second for his face to contort sharply. "Ugh, that's disgusting! It tastes like water and hay." He pushed the drink back in front of the god and scrubbed his tongue with his fingers. With a scandalized look he asked, "How can you drink that?"

Before Loki could reply, Fury interrupted them. "I take it the Ice Queen is there, then?" He didn't bother waiting for a confirmation. "Good, then let's get down to business. I want you to tell me everything you know about Thanos and Asgard."

Tony was too busy rinsing his mouth out in the sink to take up his excessive lecturing, and Loki wasn't too keen on giving him the time, so he went ahead and asked, "Have you heard anything else from… them, or are you still just going off of the one report?"

When Tony finally got his head out of the water to stare at him, Loki just took a pointed sip of his smoothie- that really did taste more like water than anything else, but anything stronger was painful on his senses–to say, 'Look, I'm still fine. I've got this'. Tony just looked queasy at the fact that Loki was actually drinking the smoothie.

"We have been unable to get into contact with them. One of our teams is working on it."

Fury's words made Loki think about Jane, and he was surprised to find that he had actually forgotten about her- especially since he had been so mad when he learned about her. His world had been falling down around him, and Thor had been so quick to love a mortal instead of his Jotun brother. Now it seemed like such a minor thing to get livid about; there were worse things to concern himself with than Thor having a brief fling.

"If they wanted to talk to you, they would. Heimdall sees everything."

"Wait, so all of you are creepy stalkers? That's just great." Tony muttered, while Fury said, "Then it's your job to talk to them. I need more to go on than a single warning."

Talk to the people of Asgard? Speak to his family? If Loki had his way, never again would he talk to any of them.

"That isn't possible. I am hidden from Heimdall, he wouldn't see me." There was no need to mention that Loki could reveal himself, because he won't. To disclose the fact that he's still alive would be a death sentence.

"Surely you could beam yourself back home and figure out what the hell they are talking about." Fury growled, not taking 'no' as an answer.

"I would make a poor ambassador for Midgard," Loki refuted. "Attempted fratricide is not my only crime in Asgard, nor the most grievous." Though technically the patricide, regicide, and attempted genocide wasn't Asgard's problem. It was letting the Jotuns inside the palace and tempting a war that wasn't so excusable.

Before Fury could come up with something else he continued, "Are you really so concerned about the Mad Titan? He is nothing more than a legend."

"Considering you Asgardians don't normally decide to grace us with your presence, and someone came down just to tell us about him? Yes, I do think it is worth the effort. Now are you going to help, or are you planning to just sit by and risk letting the world burn?"

"Let me be clear on this: Asgard doesn't care about what happens to Midgard. _I_ don't care what happens to Midgard." Out of the corner of his eyes Loki could see the betrayal strike across Tony's face. He ignored it and continued, "But Tony Stark lives on Midgard, and I care about what happens to him. For that reason- and that reason only- you will have my help. I am not altruistic, nor a saint. Do not presume to mistake my actions as such."

"Oh, I assure you, that's the last thing I'd think when it comes to you." Again Loki had to wonder just how much Fury knew, or if the man really just hated Loki on principle. Although there was no video feed Loki glared into empty space, and he was sure Fury was doing the same.

For once it was Tony who was the level headed one, and he pulled them both back with, "Is there a way for you to see if what Thor said was true?"

Loki was glad that Fury couldn't see him when he flinched slightly at the name. It was made worse by the fact that now Tony knew of that shame, knew all of his worst mistakes, even if he was forgiven. Because even if Tony did not blame him, the man was not his brother, and it was Thor's forgiveness he sought for that crime, though he'd never get it.

"Some scrying spells would be strong enough to work outside of the Nine Realms, but I do not have the materials required for one." 'Materials' being the knowledge of how to do it, which was just another thing stolen from him by the void.

"Well unless you need some crazy space junk, I'm sure Stark could procure what you need. Get it done."

"We'll see." Loki replied, even though he doubted he could recreate the spell anytime in the next decade, nor was he going to go to Asgard for a spell book anytime sooner.

Unaware of Loki's thoughts and satisfied with the placation for now, Fury said, "Stark, we have intel that suggests Doom is going to be crawling back, and until we can get clearance to go in to Latveria and take him out, we need you to do whatever you did with Doom last time. He's now our top priority, and I want you to go overkill on him."

Then there was a click as the line closed, and all of the unacknowledged tension in the room dissipated. Silence reigned, then after a moment Tony suddenly moaned, "Ah crap, that means he's going to be calling Rogers, too."

* * *

Note: Just a heads up, I won't be posting a chapter next Wednesday. I will be taking a short break and finishing the plans for this story so I'll have an approximate of just how many chapters it'll be. Til then, keep being awesome.


	9. Chapter 9

"_Tilling my own grave to keep me level,  
Jam another dragon down the hole,  
Digging to the rhythm and the echo of a solitary siren,  
One that pushes me along and leaves me so..._

_Someone feed the monkey while I dig in search of China,_  
_White as Dracula as I approach the bottom_."

-o-o-o-

_This is the calm..._

"Bunnies? Seriously? It couldn't have been something cooler like... I dunno, mutant tigers? Because this is- holy shit!"

A sudden onset of malefic hissing was the only warning Tony had before a massive, dog-sized mass of fur and muscle flung itself at him. Razor sharp teeth sunk into his arm, and the crunch of metal was followed by the report of a gun. The furious growling was replaced by a choked whine, and then silence.

"...Guys, I think it may have just given me rabies."

"That's not possible." Came the voice that always followed Tony's, sounding far too amused given the situation... Or maybe not, since if Tony wasn't preoccupied with trying to avoid getting his face bitten off he'd be laughing his off, too. Not that Loki was laughing, but it was close enough.

"It bit me!" The man who was Iron Man- genius, superhero, and a few other notable things- exclaimed. The bent armor dug into his forearm, and Tony scowled at the mutant rabbits- courtesy of one mad scientist with the unexciting name of Dr. Anderson -that were circling him, waiting for an opening to try and maul his face.

'Come and get it, you little flea-bags,' Tony thought, flaring his shoulder guns for another round.

"No, it bit the suit, and they can't bite through it...though it's attempts were certainly laudable."

"Yeah, you say that now. How about you make the new arm plating for this suit? It totally punctured the top layer...Fucking rabbits."

To accentuate his statement, another overgrown member of the _Lagomorpha_ order made a mad lunge for Iron Man's mask. Tony ducked, and the rabbit shrieked as it flew over his head. It landed with a sharp click, its scything claws- that were more 'talon' than 'claw' at this point- scraping against the pavement. Tony raised his arm as it spun around, furious yowls clambering from its throat. The repulsor fired just as the rabbit lunged again, all one hundred pounds of it intent on mauling Tony to death.

But the hundred pounds of advanced technology that made up Iron Man won out against the science-project gone wrong (or right, if the insane genetic engineer who released them in Nowhere, California actually intended to make perfectly adorable bunnies into Hulk incarnates), and the rabbit was blasted across the street into the side of an empty, quaint little restaurant.

...Which wasn't actually empty, and when the loud crash and subsequent squelch quieted, Tony could hear aggravated growling coming from inside the demolished building. Over a dozen beady eyes reflected back at him from the gap in the crumbling bricks, and he could hear even more of the abominations slinking around in the background.

"Oh crap..." He muttered, and that seemed to be the impetus as a writhing mound of fangs and claws came erupting out of the improvised exit.

Tony fired, but he couldn't get a blast off fast enough; a few of the rabbits had already broken rank and came pouring out into the street. The ones that were too slow to get out of the building got hit head on. One of the rabbits near the edge of the blast screeched horribly, it's entire right side blown off. It tried with hell-born determination to get back onto its remaining three feet, oozing blood onto the blacktop as it struggled.

Hellish or not, Tony felt a pang of pity for the moaning animal- even if it was shrieking at him as it dragged itself forwards- but he didn't have time to put it out of its misery. The rest of the pack was barreling right at him, jaws dripping frothy saliva.

"I'd suggest getting off the ground." Loki oh so helpfully commented in his ear, clearly enjoying himself while Tony was faced with impending bunny doom.

Iron Man didn't need any more prodding, rocketing up off the ground just as the pack got into pouncing range. One of the rabbits made a desperate leap, chomping jaw going just shy of Tony's boot. Once he was safely above the pacing throng of mutants, Tony scowled, "Is my nearly getting eaten amusing to you?"

"Actually, it is." The God of Mischief replied, and for once the title sounded like it actually belonged to him.

"Gee, thanks. I love you too," he muttered. Below him the rabbits paced in a circle, tilting their heads in a way that would have been cute if he didn't know they were contemplating how to get him down for a nice, juicy bite of Tony steak. "I think I actually prefer Doombots to these guys. These things are just insane, and I feel like I'm going to get charged for animal abuse each time I shoot one. We at least have Doom down to a science. "

Which is exactly why dear old Victor decided to hole himself up in Latveria. Apparently he didn't appreciate SHIELD- aka Tony and Loki, because they were the ones that did all the leg work -shutting down and capturing a good seventeen of his robots. Not to mention how badly a failure like that must of hurt his pride. There hasn't been a single bot sighting in weeks, and Doom was laying low even on the political stage.

Sadly, the lack of robots didn't keep Fury from calling all of the potential members of the Avengers back in and telling them to play nice. Now the whole gang was together, and for what? Some of America's greatest superheros were reduced to being pest control in some throwback farm town, where the population sign didn't even breach the triple digits.

Tony knew that strategically, it was good for them to spend more time working together before they did anything too serious. But still, six people for bunnies? They were compact evil, Tony would give Fury that, but not a national threat. There weren't even any fatalities, unless you counted the ruined corn fields. If they were released in a major city, however, that would be a different story. The rabbits had only one setting, and that was 'kill everything that moves'.

Loki didn't seem at all fazed by the rabbits murderous inclinations, and said, "Regardless, they are still relatively harmless as far as beasts go." Tony's mangled arm guard would beg to differ- what kind of animal could bite through a layer of titanium plating? -but then again maybe this was comparatively weak to whatever behemoths lived on Asgard. "There would be nothing noble about dying in a battle with one of those."

"And death by bilgesnipe is?"

One nice side effect of Loki's show-and-tell was that he no longer avoided letting references to his home slip in. They were only snippets that didn't quite paint a complete picture of the realm in which Loki was raised, but it was enough to make it clear that Asgard was chock full of battle mongers. Though even Tony had to admit that 'death by cuddly bunnies gone dark side' isn't something he'd want written on Iron Man's tomb stone. It would be a laughable end no matter which realm you were in.

"A newborn bilgesnipe is more dangerous than one of those, and even full-grown ones are only considered a mediocre accomplishment."

"Then it's a good thing we're dealing with Midgard wildlife." That wasn't actually wildlife at all, and they were really starting to get on Tony's nerves. For every one he killed, two took its place. They were going to be here for hours at this rate. If he didn't think Loki could use the exposure, Tony would have hightailed it out of there a long time ago. As it were, this was as good of practice he was going to get, with its low stress and ubiquitous bickering.

However, there were a few downsides- three, to be exact.

"Will you two lovebirds shut up over there? Some of us are trying to use the coms for constructive purposes." Clint Barton complained, and Tony was kind of surprised no one had interrupted them sooner... though maybe they were a bit more concerned with trying to not get eaten, since they did not have the advantage of being in a suit of armor fifty feet above the ground.

"Of course." Loki drawled before calmly tacking on, "There's a rabbit about to lunge for your head."

Now it was Barton's turn to swear and desperately try to get an shot in as a rabbit pounced at him from behind. Tony watched from his aerial vantage point as the arrow imbedded itself into snowy white fur, but the half-drawn shot didn't have enough force to reach the heart. Switching tactics, Hawkeye grabbed his bow like a club and beat the clawing rabbit heavily across the face. It screeched angrily at him while the force of the blow sent it careening off of the top of the roof to splatter unpleasantly on the asphalt below. Over the microphone Tony could hear Barton breathe heavily as his eyes darted around, another arrow nocked in case anything else managed to sneak all the way to the top of a two story building.

"Clint, are you alright? I am making my way to your position now." Romanov said, tone curt. Following her voice was a dying squeal, sounding far too close to the headset. An unwelcomed image of Romanov jumping down on a rabbit's back and slitting its throat flashed threw Tony's mind, and he winced. Though he wasn't doing much better, hovering in the air and raining fiery death on the vicious pack of restaurant squatters.

"I'm fine. Be wary of aerial attacks," Barton said as he dashed to a more secure perch, looking more prey than predator.

Rogers joined in the conversation as well, all business. "Romanov, how many more are at your position? My section appears to be clear."

"Just a few." Another horrifying moan came from the Black Widow's line, and Tony decided he really didn't want to know what she was doing to the little demons. "Most of the remaining ones have fled into the corn fields."

"Roger that." Tony always found it amusing how the Captain used his own name as an acknowledgment. Too bad he'd never be able to get others to say 'Stark that'…Or maybe he could. He did happen to have this little thing called influence, and very few people have ever said he uses it appropriately. Those who did just wanted to get into his pants, wallet, or in most instances both.

His musings were cut short when Rogers addressed him next. "Iron Man, I need you to scout in the air above the fields. I'll go in below."

"While that sounds like it'd be a great time, Spangles, I'm a bit busy clearing up a nest at the moment." To prove his point he fired one of the louder missiles in his shoulder panel. It homed in on where some of the bunnies were cannibalizing one of their fallen comrades- which was messed up on so many levels. Weren't rabbits supposed to like carrots and lettuce? -and sent them flying.

Another one of them didn't die immediately, and it scuttled forwards in a way that would make any zombie proud. It took another two shots before it finally stilled, and Tony shuddered. He'd never look at horror movies or rabbits the same way after this.

"These things are seriously messed up. That Anderson dude needs to check into the nearest mental hospital," he announced, and no one disagreed.

Their conversation dropped off, and for the next twenty minutes the only sounds were of weapons firing and the occasional cursing as a fluff ball of doom snuck up on someone. Even Loki and Tony's bantering was put on hold in favor of putting an end to the rabbit infestation once and for all.

The next time someone spoke, it was Romanov. "Doctor Banner, have you managed to track their origin yet?"

"We have it pinned down to within twenty miles of the town you are in. We're still working on tracing the radiation signature to a more exact position." Bruce Banner's voice came over the line, and Tony had actually forgotten that the physicist was working with them. The man was far too reserved for his own good. Which, of course, meant that it was Tony's job to draw him out of his shell.

"You know this would be a lot more fun if you came and went all green rage monster, Bruce. Hulk bunnies and the actual Hulk- it'd be perfect," he said, all bluster and no tact.

"I'd rather not," Bruce replied, not at all convinced.

"Come on. It's not like there's anything important this far out anyway." Tony knew he wasn't going about this the right way, but how do you explain to someone that the manifestation of their anger is a good thing? The only other person Tony's met who's that uncomfortable in their own skin is Loki, and the god isn't exactly the poster boy for excellent mental health.

"Tony, I really need to work on this." Bruce said, neatly evading any mentions of the Hulk just like he always did. Tony couldn't help but acknowledge that he was probably fighting a losing battle. It didn't mean he wouldn't try though.

Romanov kept him from attempting to persuade Bruce farther, saying, "Alert us when you've found where Dr. Anderson is working from."

"I will," he answered, and it was as clear of an indication as any that the opportunity for Tony to nag him was over.

'I'm not giving up on you,' he thought, but granted Bruce the reprieve.

Once again mission relevant communication filled the line, and slowly but surely the number of mutant rabbits began to dwindle down. It went from an all out brawl to search and destroy, which wasn't quite enough to keep Tony engaged. He started to get bored, and a bored Tony was a Tony with ideas. Specifically, he had ideas on how to get his two friends with serious self-esteem issues to socialize for a bit. Because Loki didn't get out enough- or at all -and Bruce tended to push people away.

He'd call it 'Operation: Scissorhands', and step one was convincing the rest of the merry bunch to come to his house (there was no way he was driving Loki somewhere public anytime soon, not after how much of a mess that little leap of faith had become). The best way to do that? Bribe Barton with alcohol.

"I need a drink after this," Tony complained as he systematically made his way across the corn fields, searching out any stragglers.

"I think we'll all need a drink after this," Barton joined in, and behind his mask Tony smirked. Success. For being a master spy, Hawkeye was far too easy to predict.

"My estate isn't too far from here. I wouldn't mind sharing." Which didn't sound subtle at all, but Tony didn't really care. The only one who'd have a problem with what he's doing is Loki, and he'd catch on no matter how good Tony's acting was.

"…Do you have the nice stuff?" Barton asked, taking the bait hook, line, and sinker.

"I have stuff that costs more than what you make in a month."

"Then hell yeah, I'm in." One down, three to go.

"Tony…" Loki started, the warning clear in his voice. 'I live there, too, and I'm not okay with this,' it said.

'Well too bad,' Tony thought. 'You're going to be social anyway.'

"I'll come as well, if that is not a problem," Romanov said, though Tony figured she'd insist on coming even if it was. However, he knew she wasn't attracted so much by the promise of fine beverages than by the chance to meet Loki. He was still very much an unknown to the others, and while he's sure she's seen the surveillance footage, it wasn't enough for her. Whoever trained the Black Widow trained her well.

"Why don't we just make it a party?" He said, like that wasn't the goal in the first place. "Come on, Bruce. It'll be fun. …You can come too, Rogers."

"Way to make a man feel welcomed, Stark," Rogers muttered at the same time Bruce said, "I still don't think that's a good idea."

"Sure it is," Tony replied, ignoring the Captain. Part of him didn't even want the superhero to come, and the other part knew that Rogers was already sold. Dangling the 'teamwork' bone in front of him was always a sure fire way to get his compliance. "There won't be any problems, and even if there was my house is far enough away from town. As far as I can see, there's no good reason for you not to come." Bruce started to make a noise of protest, and he quickly tacked on, "We can do science in my really nice lab."

Bruce sighed, finally conceding, "Alright, I'll give it a try."

"Sweet, then we have the whole crew." Step one? Complete.

Initiate step two: actually finish the job so they can leave. "Now tell me you know where this nutjob is so we can go have some fun."

-o-o-o-

When Tony came clanking into the lab, Loki glared up at him from his chair.

"Don't be like that," Tony said, putting his hands in a surrender gesture. "You don't have to interact with them if you don't want to."

Loki wanted to spit one of Tony's own lines back at him- "We both know that's a lie." -but he held his tongue. He knew what Tony was trying to do, and that the man thought it was for the best. Not that he wasn't angry that he didn't get any say in the matter- even if he would have consented anyway -but fighting about it would only create undue stress. So he kept silent, watching as Tony expression started to shift towards guilt.

"It'll be okay, really. They won't be here for long, and no one will mess with you."

This time it was the automatic reflex of 'I don't need you to look out for me' that came to the tip of his tongue, but again he swallowed it back. The God of Lies had sworn off lies- at least when it posed no risk to him -and that was definitely a lie; he did need Tony's help. Just like he did need to start interacting with others, and a friendly situation- which was a bizarre thought, as he didn't think he'd ever befriend anyone, let alone mortals -was the best place to start.

It didn't mean he liked it, however, and his heart pulsed anxiously inside his chest.

Tony instantly picked up on Loki's distress, and it incited the very thing Loki sought to avoid. The man hurried to justify himself, gesturing sharply. "I didn't think it'd be a big deal. I mean, you've talked to them all before, and they know-"

"Tony, it's fine." He would have preferred to have at least some forewarning, but it was 'fine'. And this time- for maybe the first time -the word wasn't a lie. Tony wasn't sure, still clearly beating himself up over it, and Loki continued, "It's better to be prepared on your own time, than have to catch up with your enemies."

"We have the time," Tony said, so sure of his words, and Loki wanted to optimistically agree with him. But if life taught the God of Chaos nothing else, it was that things never happened the way you wanted them to. Relaxing, letting your guard down, was paramount to being destroyed. If you lost your edge, the world would cut you down. It always had, and it always will.

Loki kept those thoughts to himself, pushed them deep inside and tried to ignore their bitter whispers. Thing were suppose to be different now. Better. So he just replied simply, "Time that we shouldn't waste."

"Right, which means I need to get out of this suit and up to the bar, and you...are you going to put on some actual clothes?" Tony gestured to the plain pants and shirt that Loki was wearing. "Not that you need to go full leather, but I did get you some jeans."

"These suit my needs just fine," He replied. The soft, loose fabric was far more agreeable on his senses than anything else Midgard had to offer. It was also something he'd never find on Asgard, where even casual wear was thick and abrasive.

Tony just shrugged, a gesture that clearly said 'it isn't like I haven't done worse', and headed off to where Jarvis was waiting to take the armor away. Loki got moving as well, setting the book he had been writing in aside as he stood. The title '_Theorems or Magic?_' stared back at him, and looking at it made his teeth clench. How far he has fallen, that he thought a Midgardian text could help him any. The only thing that could fix his loathsome lack of knowledge was a true spell-book, but all of his were locked up tight back in Asgard. All he had were the tattered remains of his own knowledge, and he was ashamed to find how useless it was when attempting anything more complex than simple illusions.

There was a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, let's go hang out upstairs. We don't spend enough time in the main floor of this house." There was the unspoken 'stop worrying about things you can't fix'.

'I can't,' Loki thought, but he followed anyway, leaving the proof of his failure behind. However, his faults would always stick with him, and all he did was exchange one reminder for another; he stared at the unaesthetic curtains lining each wall with the same hatred.

"Are you up for taking those down?" Tony asked, and while the question was casual it hurt. Loki was weak, and he didn't need others to judge him to know that. It couldn't be more obvious. But Tony wasn't judging him. Loki was only judging himself.

"Just a little bit longer. Then they'll come down." They had to.

"Fine by me," Tony said, and that was that. The man gravitated to the bar, leaving Loki to stare at the thick green walls that isolated him from the rest of the world.

'Soon,' he thought, 'I won't need you anymore.'

Then he forced himself to walk away and drifted towards Tony's familiar bravado, forever a moth to the flame. He sat in the chair closes to Tony, content to listen to his bad jokes and dramatized stories. And even though he wasn't doing anything, wasn't forcing his mind to churn so it didn't stop and stagnate, he felt alright. The fog lurked as it always did, but it didn't not rise to a crescendo, a rhythm of blankness and despair. It was calm, and he reveled in it.

That calmness lasted even when Jarvis announced that the rest of the Avengers had pulled up into the driveway, and his sanctuary was invaded. He could hear them talking outside the door, inane comments about how massive Tony's house was and more serious mentions of Loki. Hearing his name made him tense, fingers clutching at the glass of water in his hands (water, because the sharp bite of alcohol was not worth foolishly attempting to dull the ache inside of him).

The front door opened after Barton replied to something Rogers had said ("What is he like?" "Why don't you go see for yourself?") and the four wandered into Tony's house.

"Alright Stark, let's get this show on the road," Barton called by way of greeting, stomping around in the foyer- inside the house. His house. Inside, with him... Loki clutched the glass harder until it was on the verge of shattering in his hand.

Tony shot him a concerned look as he shouted back, "Already started!" Then he leaned over towards Loki, prying the glass from stark white fingers. "Calm down."

He set down the glass just as Barton came into the room, still adorned in his muck splattered uniform. He paused only momentarily when he caught sight of Loki, who fought to keep from looking like a doe caught in the headlights.

"Hey," Barton said, giving a lazy wave, before he decided that getting a drink was more important at the moment. As Barton went off to raid Tony's supply, most likely looking for the most expensive beer he could find, the other three filed into the room. Romanov copied Barton, giving them a clipped 'hello' before going to find a bottle of wine.

That left Banner and Rogers loitering by the doorway, torn between looking around the house, Loki, the bar, Loki, and the rest of the group.

Barton meanwhile had finished pouring himself a glass and flopped down onto the couch across from where Loki was sitting. He took a sip, sighing happily into the glass. "Now that's the stuff." Then he sat up a bit straighter, giving Loki one long stare. "You know, you looked a lot more dangerous in leather. But sweats are nice too."

"I assure you, if I was razing a city it wouldn't matter what clothing I wore," Loki replied, the glass of water somehow finding its way back to being strangled by his hands.

"Touche," Barton said as Romanov approached the couch, pushing the archer's legs out of the way so she could sit beside him.

Rogers and Banner were the only ones left standing, shuffling awkwardly. "You two seriously need to learn how to have fun. Get a drink, take a seat, enjoy the view. I didn't invite you over so you could be wallflowers." Tony said from his chair, raising his own half-full glass.

"Not much of a view with those curtains in the way," Barton observed while Rogers finally seemed to get over himself and started towards the remaining couch, skipping on the drink offer. Banner followed suit, and sat down on the couch with such hesitance that it was almost comical.

Almost. Would be, if Loki couldn't understand what it felt like to be so at odds with a part of yourself. He personally has never seen the Hulk, just read the files SHIELD had on him, but 'big, green, and violent' couldn't be too different from 'big, blue, and violent'.

At Barton's comment, Tony twisted around in his seat to look towards the windows. "What, you don't like my curtains? I think they're exceptional pieces of fabric."

"Green isn't really my color," Barton answered, then stared at Loki again. The god decided he much preferred to be the analyzer than the analyzed. "I take it those are for you." It wasn't a question.

"Blue isn't really my color," Loki mimicked. Except for it was his color, and that was the problem. That has _always_ been the problem.

He was distracted from his pity party by Rogers, who had leaned forwards on the couch. "It's a pleasure to actually meet you in person." He said, extending an arm. It took Loki a moment to reconcile the action with what he's learned of Midgard culture, and when he did he reached out to shake the offered hand.

"Likewise," Loki replied, letting go as soon as he deemed it was appropriate. The shaking of hands was such a strange custom.

Rogers noticed, and apologized, "Sorry, I forgot you aren't actually from Earth. What do you think about being here?"

"It's...different, from what I'm use to," Loki conceded. "But I don't dislike it." Quite the opposite, in fact. Loki was starting to adore Tony's planet, and all the little things that came with it. What it lacked in magic it made up for with ingenuity.

"I know what you mean. When I woke up, it took a long time for things to stop feeling strange. I liked a lot of the things that had changed, like cellphones, but it wasn't home."

Loki could hear Tony start to talk, and he looked over to realize that the man had started a different conversation with Banner. Tony's eyes darted to his for a moment and he smiled at the god before turning back to cajoling Banner with promises of science. Barton had also shifted his attention, avidly discussing the newest bow models was with Romanov, who was doing her best to act interested. That left Loki with Rogers and his earnest blue eyes.

With no other choice but to continue talking, Loki asked, "Do you wish to go back to your real home?" Because he sometimes wished to go back to Asgard; for all the faults of its people he had lived there for over a millennium. It was hard not to miss it.

"In the beginning, all I wanted was to go back. Now I've learned that this is my home, too, and I love it just the same."

Loki opened his mouth to reply- maybe to agree, and admit that Midgard has become his home as well, or to ask if there was any people that Rogers missed, if that was what made it the hardest to move on -when Tony spoke louder, calling attention onto himself.

"Bruce and I are going to take our party downstairs." He looked towards Loki, silently checking if the god was going to be okay on his own. Loki nodded his head slightly, and Tony returned the gesture before looking away. As he turned his eyes caught on Rogers, and he stared the the Captain with an odd expression. Then he shook it off and clapped Bruce on the shoulder. "Let's go, Rage-quit."

Tony and Banner walked from the room, and with one last parting glance they disappeared. It took Loki a moment to turn his attention back to the remaining occupants, a bit surprised to realize that this was the first time in about a year that he had been around other people without Tony.

"Huh... I've never seen you without your boyfriend around. And here I was thinking you two were attached at the hip." Baton piped up from his couch, echoing Loki's thoughts. The god pulled his gaze away from the corner Tony had gone around, quelling any apprehension inside of him.

"I was meaning to ask about that, actually." Rogers said, speaking a bit more confidently now that Tony- who has never been at all shy about expressing his dislike of the 'All-American Schoolboy' -had gone elsewhere. "With how close you two are, I was just wondering if you were, you know...together. I'm okay with it if you are," he was hurry to add. "It's just kind of odd. I never thought Tony would settle down with anyone. He seems too irresponsible for that."

"Tony's not irresponsible," was quick to pass from Loki's lips, before he even thought about the rest of Roger's statement. He didn't know why he jumped to defend the man, especially when Tony didn't care what Rogers thought, but after all Tony did for him he couldn't just let that comment pass. Tony was impulsive, definitely, but not irresponsible. He spent too long mending Loki to be considered that.

Then he grinned sharply. "And as for your other question, Tony and I have shared a bed a few times." In a completely platonic way, when Loki was having nightmares and completely freaking out, but shared a bed nonetheless. Not that the other people in the room would interpret it that way, and the flabbergasted look on Roger's face was priceless.

(God of Mischief, it's good to be back.)

-o-o-o-

When Tony and Bruce eventually returned back upstairs, Loki was easily chatting with the remaining Avengers about something called 'Nidhogg'. Tony hung back for a moment and watched even though he was sure Loki knew he was there. Rogers asked something -and after watching the Capcicle talk to Loki earlier, Tony grudgingly admitted to himself that Rogers wasn't a bad guy, more of the opposite really. They just didn't see eye to eye on most things -that made Barton laugh, and even Romanov, Miss Stone-cold Agent, cracked a smile.

Tony thought that for being a spur of the moment idea, this had been quite the success. And while Loki still seemed to be on guard, Tony was pretty sure that was just a Loki thing. He rarely ever settled down. As long as the god was talking and interacting, Tony was happy. Not the mention he got Bruce to finally loosen up a bit, which was a pleasant bonus.

It wasn't until Bruce shuffled loudly that the magic was broken, the assassin pair habitually making a move for hidden weapons and Loki finally looking over at Tony.

"Have fun showing him your homemade particle accelerator?" The god asked, pulling away from Rogers and giving Tony his full attention. Which was exactly why Tony had gone downstairs, because otherwise Loki would have been hyper-aware of him the entire time, and that wouldn't have gone far to build his independence.

"How'd you- right, you could hear us." Obviously Loki was keeping tabs on him anyway. If Loki was going to stay here long, Tony really had to get around to soundproofing the entire house to where the god couldn't do that. It was just... disturbing. One house-wide stalker was enough. "Keep it to yourself, Dumbo." Tony chided teasingly, then he turned to the rest of the group.

"As for you free-loaders, time to leave. Party's over. I don't care if you hole up in my tower, but this is _my_ house." And Loki's, though technically the god was the one actually free-loading in this situation. But at least he didn't drink through Tony's ridiculously expensive beverage supply, like a certain someone.

"Can I keep this?" Clint asked, holding up the bottle of vintage _Utopias_ he had been working through.

"Yeah, sure, whatever. As long you get out."

"Works for me." Clint stood up with such ease that you could barely tell he had been drinking for the last hour. He took the last swig from his glass and set it down, pausing a bit as he caught sight of the dirt that stuck to the clear surface. "Gross. I need a shower."

That seemed to be a better motivator than Tony's prodding, and after the other two also realized that they were still covered in splatters of rabbit blood it didn't take long to shoo them out the front door. Once the four had piled into the SHIELD issued car, Rogers taking the wheel, Tony turned back to regard Loki.

"See, that wasn't so bad." He said, clapping Loki on the shoulder good-naturedly.

"I told them we were sleeping together." Was Loki's unexpected reply, making Tony sputter and laugh beside him.

"Really? Damn, I wish I was there to see it. Jarvis, remind me later to watch their reactions." The AI acknowledged his request while Loki turned to head back into the house. Tony hurried to catch up, smiling at how pleased the god looked. "We'll have to harass them more next time."

Tony would make sure there was a next time. Despite his initial misgivings, Loki seemed almost disappointed when everyone left. It was a clear sign that Loki was making progress, and Tony was thrilled. Had he pulled a stunt like not even a month ago, Loki would have been on the verge of a panic attack the entire time. This unhurried, non-cataclysmic interaction was exactly what Loki needed.

Yet while Loki was getting along with the Avengers when they were around, Tony knew it wasn't enough. What they did today was not going to be a common occurrence as the Avengers rarely had that much down time, Tony included. Most of the time they were just voices on the other end of a headset. They were distant and artificial. Fact of the matter is that Loki spends the better part of his days alone, with only robots and mechanized voices.

Only if Loki was having a really bad day- ones that took all of their hard won progress and crushed it, leaving Loki empty-eyed and frightful -would Tony stay home, and it wasn't fair that their time together was limited in such a way. But that's how it was. If Loki wasn't hallucinating the void, then Tony was obligated to answer when SHIELD called on him. He hated that fine line. How was he suppose to choose without feeling selfish or guilty? Strangers or Loki- innocents who were in legitimate danger or a god with demons that can't be killed?

There was nothing more Tony could do. He tried his damnedest, but there was only so much time in a day. Even now he wanted to spend time with Loki, should spend time with him, but he had to shower, eat, and sleep.

He was just one human.

Which is how he found himself making the split decision to land in front of an animal shelter on the return trip from a mission, battle scuffed suit and all. He paid no mind to the few people loitering about in the front of the Los Angeles Regional Animal Shelter, though they stopped and stared as Iron Man made his way up to the front door.

One woman, dressed in a tan uniform, excused herself from the family she had been talking to and moved to intercept Tony before he could enter the building. "Um, sir? Is there a problem?" She called, jogging up to him.

Tony paused, hand on the door handle, and turned towards to her. She froze when he looked down at her, and it took him a moment to realize that his face was covered by the Iron Man's unyielding mask. He slid it up and gave her his most charming smile, trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible.

"Nope, everything is good." That settled, he moved to open the door again, but an arm barred his path. Frowning, he turned back to the woman, and while she looked frightened she remained resolute.

"Sir, if there is not a problem I must request you remove the suit. It's too disruptive for inside the shelter."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." He stepped back from the door, aware of the woman watching him sharply as he moved out of the way. That made him smile, because she reminded him of Pepper when he first met her. All no nonsense and stern.

He considered just leaving and coming back later, but figured if he bailed out now he'd never come back. So he ordered, "Jarvis, call one of my personal drivers and tell them to come here. Then initiate sequence 4357."

Emergency release activated, the plates began to shift with the prelude of hissing air. The catches released the smaller pieces, and they began falling to the ground as the suit broke itself down. When his hands were free, Tony grabbed the chest plate and pried it off, dropping it into the pile at his feet. A few more tugs, and the rest of the armor came loose in a clatter of metal. He stepped out of the pile, gave the ruined suit one last look, and headed back to the front doors.

On the way up he passed by a young boy with his mouth hanging open, glancing between Tony and the suit with awe. Feeling generous, Tony went back to the kid and leaned down. With a conspiratorial stage whisper he said, "If you make sure no one steals it before I get back, I'll give you the helmet." The boy's jaw dropped even further, and he let out a very unmanly squeal.

"What's your name?" Tony asked, straightening back up as what had to be the kid's mother came over.

"Harley," came the kid's breathless reply. "Are you really Iron Man?"

"Do you know anyone else with a suit that awesome? You can go check it out if you want." No sooner had to words left his mouth than Harley bounded over to where the suit sat in rubble, sitting down to sort through the pieces. He smiled at the kid's enthusiasm before turning to Harley's mother. "Is it alright if I have him watch it? I'll should only take about twenty minutes."

"It's not like I'll be able to get him to leave anyway," she answered, watching as Harley tried to put the chest plate on.

"Thanks," he said, then walked back to the shelter lady who had been watching the scene with a gobsmacked expression on her face. Tony bet she'd be telling all her friends about this as soon as she could. And Pepper said he never generated his own positive PR.

"May I enter now?" He asked, spreading his arms out wide and showing off his armor-free chest. She stared for a moment, blushing slightly before she schooled her features.

"Yes, of course." She opened the door for him as she asked, "So what can we do for you today? Are you here under an official capacity?"

What Iron Man would ever need with a random shelter he didn't know, but he guessed it has been a while since he carelessly used his suits like cars. Nearly get them stolen by criminal organizations a few times and suddenly you stop you stop thinking its a good idea to leave them at bars while you get smashed. He only felt secure leaving the suit behind today because he wouldn't be gone for long, and chances are no one's going to lie in wait for him at an animal shelter.

"Unless this shelter is actually a terrorist headquarters, I'm here on personal business. I'm looking for a pet cat."

"Oh." It took a moment for 'Tony Stark' plus 'pet cat' to actually equal 'Tony Stark wants a cat' and not 'Tony Stark needs to blow things up'. "Well, I certainly can help you with that." The woman said brightly, finally realizing that Tony was here as just another potential adopter. She veered off to the left, taking him to where there were cardboard silhouettes of playing kittens beside a garishly colored door. "Are you looking for anything in particular, or just browsing?"

'Just browsing' was the first thing that jumped to Tony's mind, because really, they were cats. How different could they be? Unlike dogs they all looked the same, and their personalities were no different. But then he reconsidered. If he was going to get a cat for Loki, it had to be perfect. He had just one shot at this.

"I'm getting the cat for my friend who has a mental disorder," Tony mentally apologized to Loki for wording it that way, but it was easier than trying to explain 'my friend is actually an alien who got trapped in the space between a massive tree's roots', "so I need a cat who is calm and friendly. And cuddly," he tacked on when the image of Loki stroking a cat in villain-esque fashion flashed through his mind again.

"I see." The woman hummed softly, and Tony sent another mental apology when he saw the pity in her eyes. "I can think of a few cats we have at the moment like that."

She opened the tacky yellow door and a cacophony of meows spilled into the hallway. The woman walked right in, but Tony hesitated at the door as he looked into the room jam packed with cats. Those closes to the door peered out at him and mewed plaintively, and scattered across the room were people laughing and smiling as they perused the cages.

Tony wasn't laughing, because as funny as the idea of getting Loki a pet has been these past few months, Tony just did not like animals. Hell, Loki didn't even like animals. So why the hell was he here?

"I think it's really great of you to be getting your friend a pet." The woman said, not looking back to see Tony's last minute doubts as she scratched a cat's head through the bars. "There's been all sorts of articles lately about the therapeutic quality of animals. They can really make a difference in peoples' lives, you know? Especially people who have special needs."

She looked over at Tony with a wide smile, and he finally stepped into the room, replying, "Yeah, I really think this will be good for him." At least he hoped so. If it didn't work out, then he wasn't sure what he'd do. Send the cat on it's way to a different home and try to find something else to help Loki's depression, he guessed. For now it was an option, and he was going to give it a shot. "So, who do you think would be a good candidate?"

"Right this way," the woman practically chirped and led him to a nearby cage. Inside was a fluffy white cat who, upon noticing them, got up and started rubbing its cheek against the door. Again the lady reached in to stroke it's forehead, and the cat purred loudly. "This is Sassy. She's four years old, and as you can see she is very friendly."

Tony just stared at the cat, nonplussed. It was a cat, how the hell was he suppose to know if it'd be a good match? Nothing about 'Sassy' jumped out at him, but was that normal? Did he just pick one and stick with it?

Luckily it seemed like his lack of connection was normal, and the lady said, "Why don't you look at some other ones, and if you still aren't sure we can come back."

She led him to another cage, and this cat was the same as the first one, approaching the bars like Tony was Jesus or something. But just like with Sassy, there wasn't any spark telling him that this was the one. Nor was there with the one after that, or the one after that. He was getting to the point where he didn't think any flea-ridden feline here was going to fit the bill when they moved on to the next possible choice.

"This is Albert. He's a year old, so he's a bit more spunky than the others I showed you, but he's real sweet with people." 'Albert' was one of the most generic looking cats you could get, a plain brown tabby with hazel eyes and big ears. He was a bit smaller than the other cats they looked at, but not by much.

Tony leaned down a bit more to peer in at him, because unlike the others they had looked at this cat didn't rush the bars. Instead it just peered back at him from where it was sitting, cocking its head slightly before licking one of its paws. The nonchalant dismissal reminded him of Loki, and Tony laughed.

"Would you like to hold him?" His helpful guide asked, latching on to his brief display on intrigue. Tony didn't really want to get fur on his clothes- or what if they thing had fleas? He didn't want fleas -but he agreed anyway.

'For Loki,' he thought to himself as the woman opened the cage and reached inside. The cat- Tony refused to call it Albert, even in his head. Really, who the hell named a cat that? -nuzzled her hand as she pulled him out. Then before Tony could tell her he didn't like the be handed things, she dropped the little fluff ball into his arms. He tried to keep the grimace from his face as it rubbed against his arm.

'For Loki,' he repeated.

"I guess you really aren't an animal person." His helper said, reaching over to adjust his awkward hold. He let her do her thing, and soon he was holding the cat snug to his chest like it was a baby. Meanwhile it just chilled in his arms, seeming perfectly content with whatever he did. The woman took a step back, taking in the sight of Tony Stark cuddling a cat. This time she didn't just smile at him; she beamed.

Tony, on the other hand, was looking down at the little fur-ball with trepidation. Did he really want to bring this thing home, where it could shit on his floor and claw up his furniture? But as it just chilled in his arms, he thought that this was exactly what Loki needed, even if Loki didn't know that himself.

He took a deep breath. "Alright, I'll take this one." Again the lady smiled widely at him, which was starting to get kind of creepy, and Tony's cheeks twinged in sympathy.

"Wonderful. Let's get all the paperwork, then you can bring Albert home. Your friend will love him." The woman started walking away, leaving Tony to scramble to catch up while still holding on to the cat. He really wanted to put it down or give it back to her- it wasn't his cat, it was Loki's, he didn't have to like touching it -but she seemed to think he should be holding it. Probably because he was here adopting it, but again- Loki's cat.

Still, he didn't want her to think he was a bad owner and have to spend extra time trying to convince her of his sincerity. There was a suit of armor sitting unattended in the court yard and a depressed god sitting unattended at the house. He didn't have time to waste by being his usual insensitive self. So he lowered himself to carrying around the tabby while they went to the front desk. The woman gave him all sorts of papers to sign, which he only pretended to read.

Then twenty minutes after he went in, he came back out with one ex-Albert. The cat had shifted a bit so it could peer over his shoulder, and Tony could feel its evil little claws starting to dig into his collar bone.

"If you scratch me I'm taking you straight back," Tony threatened as he scoped out his suit of armor. It was just as he left it, Harley sitting vigilantly beside it. The boy's mother was also there, but she looked considerably more impatient than her son. As he walked up to them, Harley caught sight of Tony first and his entire face lifted up. The boy tugged on his mother's sleeve, and she followed his pointed finger to Tony, who slipped one arm free from the cat and gave them a small wave.

Harley jumped to his feet when Tony came closer, mouth already motoring off. "I looked after your armor for you. A few people wanted to touch it, but I told them Iron Man ordered me to protect it."

"It looks like you did a good job." He absently reached over to muss up the kid's hair, turning to his mother. "Sorry about that. Thanks for letting him help me."

"He's a real big fan of yours," she explained, losing a bit of the annoyance to smile fondly at her son, who was excitedly retelling what happened in the last twenty minutes in extreme detail.

When Harley stopped to take a much needed breath, Tony cut in and said, "Hey kid, can you hold this for a moment?" He held the cat out, and the kid happily grabbed it from him. Then Tony picked up the helmet from the top of the pile and turned it around in his hands. Reaching inside, he deftly grabbed the wires that enabled the HUD. With a sharp yank he pulled the system out, pocketing the small chip that had connected the suit to Jarvis. Helmet now reduced to just a harmless piece of sculpted metal, he offered it to the kid. "Trade you back?"

Harley nodded quickly, looking like a sugar-high bobble head; Tony scooped the cat from his arms, replacing it with the ash-scuffed helmet. Immediately the kid put it on his head, the large frame awkwardly hanging off his small face. Harley didn't seem to care, however, and instantly took to running around, shooting at invisible enemies.

"You didn't have to give him that," the mother said, watching her son, and Tony just shrugged.

"It's not big deal," he said, and from the corner of his eye he saw a familiar Lexus LS pull up. "Now if you'll excuse me." Tony went up to the curb and the car pulled around to stop in front of him, the windows rolling down.

Ricardo- one of Tony's preferred part-time drivers, meaning Tony actually remembered his name -leaned over and frowned at the sight of the cat. "Sir, why do you-"

"Doesn't matter. Just get the suit in the trunk and drive me back to the house." He cut in, reaching with one hand to open the back, passenger side door. He slide in, gripping the cat tighter as it tried to squirm out of his hold. Ricardo stared at him like he grew a second head, making no move to get out and grab the abandoned suit. Tony scowled at him. "Come on, you've seen a cat before. Chop chop!"

The man scrambled to comply, leaving Tony to continue trying and wrangle the suddenly lively cat. The sooner he got it back home and dumped it off on Loki, the better.

Of course, when he did finally get home and tried to shove the wound-up feline into the god's arms, Loki just said, "Tony, you're an idiot."

"Come on, don't you feel even the slightest bit joyed by it's cuteness?" Tony asked, trying once more tho shove the cat off onto Loki. The god just kept his arms crossed, glaring at him like Tony was trying to get him to hold one of the rabbits from hell.

"Do you?" Loki snarked back, and Tony had to admit he had a point there. But that didn't stop him. He held the cat for the last half-hour, Loki had to at least hold it once.

"Just take him for a week, and if you still don't like him I'll have Pepper find him another home. Now here." Loki still didn't look convinced, but he did reach out and accept the cat, which 'mreow'-ed plaintively as he pulled it closer. Tony smiled slightly when one of Loki's hands idly pet the cat when it kept fussing. That smile faded though when Loki glared back at him, not at all happy with having a cat forced on him.

"Does he have a name?"

"Unless you want to call him Albert, no."

"Hmm..." Was Loki's noncommittal reply, and Tony figured it didn't really matter if they named it anything if it wasn't staying. Which was disappointing, but he guessed this wasn't one of his better ideas, even if it had shown promise.

"Right, well...I sent the driver out to get some supplies for it." Since Tony hadn't even realized that the cat would need food and a litterbox until Ricardo mentioned it. "He'll be back in a bit. So yeah...Want to work in the lab?" When Loki moved to set the cat down, Tony tacked on, "It comes with. We aren't doing anything dangerous today. Besides, Dum-E will enjoy him at least."

Tony lost any remaining hope he had for the cat staying at the withering glare Loki gave him before he teleported downstairs with the cat in his arms. He was sure he'd be calling up Pepper to get rid of it in a week.

Turns out he was wrong; the cat stayed.

He had left to go deal with some terrorist cell in the morning, regrettably having to leave Loki while he was zoning out and upset, and when he returned in the evening the god looked significantly less stressed. Loki shoved a screen into Tony's face when he approached.

"Choronzon."

"What?" Tony asked while his eyes started to scan to offered page. It took him a moment to realize it was an article about the random word Loki had just said. "Okay, and?"

"His name. Choronzon." That's when Tony realized the cat was actually sitting on Loki's lap, sprawled out and blinking languidly up at Tony, instead of sitting all alone under one of the desks.

"That's kind of a mouthful." He commented while he looked at the article with a new found interest. There was clearly a reason that Loki chose that name, instead of going with 'Whiskers' or something, and that reason became blatantly clear as he skimmed over the content of the Wikipedia page. Phrases like 'the last great obstacle between the adept and enlightenment' and 'a temporary personification of the raving and inconsistent forces that occupy the Abyss' jumped to his notice, and it didn't take long to draw the parallels between that and the void.

"Oh...That's awfully poetic way to put it. But you couldn't pick something easier to say? Seriously, how'd you pronounce it? Chor-o...Kor-on-zone. Chor-in-zon?" He stumbled over the mess of sounds, none of them sounding like Loki's smooth rendition of the letters. "You know what, I'm just going to call him Coro."

The newly dubbed 'Coro' just mewed at him, moving to cover its eyes with its arm in a clear indication of 'go away, I'm sleeping'. One of Loki's pale hands reached up to softly scratch along the cat's spine, and Coro happily leaned into the touch.

It was then that Tony had the strangest thought. If this was how his life was going to be, with Loki by his side and this same easy happiness...he'd be alright with that. More than alright. For the first time ever, he had the feeling that everything was the way it should be.

And it was wonderful.

-o-o-o-

Warmth surrounded Loki as he curled up on the couch, an arm and a leg swung over the body beside him, which occasionally twitched in the throes of a dream. Puffs of air against Loki's cheek made his ears flick, and he nuzzled his face farther into Choronzon's neck. The cat shifted towards him in response, and Loki purred softly into tawny fur.

The sound of footsteps drifted up to him, making one of Loki's ears lazily tilt towards the stairwell. He could hear Tony's voice, but the distant words were lost in the dreamy haze. Whatever it was didn't sound like anything too important, so he stayed relaxed into the sofa, enjoying the moment of harmless inactivity.

He only perked up a bit when Tony came into the room, saying, "-he said he'd be up here. Jarvis, where'd Loki go?" Loki cracked an eye open, squinting at Tony around Choronzon's head.

"He's on the couch with the cat, sir."

Tony huffed exasperatedly up at the ceiling, and said, "I just checked, only Coro is-" He trailed off as his eyes locked with Loki's, and Loki just stretched his legs in response. "Nevermind."

Loki extracted himself from where black and tan intermingled, getting to his feet when Tony made his way over. Coro just continued sleeping, scootching over into the warm spot Loki just vacated.

"Observant as ever," Loki taunted, though the meows that came from his throat lacked any semblance of an insult.

"I have a feeling that was something sarcastic, but it just sounded really cute," Tony said, coming to a stop before Loki. The god- comfortably masked in the form of a cat- just glared up at him with slitted green eyes. "Nope, still cute. ...Can I pet you?"

Tony reached forwards, but his hand was intercepted by the swipe of a paw. Loki hissed at him, but the sound was more amused than angry. "Fine, be that way," Tony grumbled, but he was smiling. "Though seriously, I need to talk to you, and I can't understand a thing you're saying."

Loki sighed and jumped down off the couch. As he fell he _pushed_, and his flesh twisted in compliance. The bones in his jaw receded back into his skull, then the entire bone elongated. His shoulders twisted, stretching his skin and snapping into a different position. His heartbeat slowed as the muscle grew, the veins becoming enlarged in response. Both spine and hip contorted, bringing him from four legs to two. The last of his fur sunk back into his skin, and the world shifted back into color.

He was humanoid just as he hit the ground, straightening up from a crouched position to look into Tony's wide eyes.

"Huh... Well that looked absolutely disgusting." The man summarized, looking a bit queasy. "Does doing that hurt?"

"Not at all." Loki stretched his arms above his head, getting any remaining kinks out of his preferred form.

"Could've fooled me..." Tony muttered, and once he was sure Loki was fine the science part of his mind flipped on. "Is there a limit to how small you can get? Or large as well, I guess." The engineer asked, mind jumping on a completely different train of thought than whatever he came up here for. "And can you just transform partly? Like be a centaur or something?"

While Tony rambled, Loki watched him fondly. He absently reached down to scratch Coro's head as the cat peered up at him from its nap. "And can you transform into like fire or something insubstantial, or is it just..." Tony suddenly trailed off. "Holy crap, you're smiling."

He was? Loki unconsciously removed his hand from the cat and brought it to his lips. Sure enough, he was; it was a small smile, but a smile nonetheless. Not a grin, or a smirk, but a content, dare-say happy smile.

"So I am." He mused, not making any move to stop. He didn't want to stop.

Tony meanwhile looked like he was about to fling himself at Loki in joy. "You've never smiled before."

"I've never been happy before." He said, and the magnitude of that statement wasn't lost on either of them. Then he continued, not willing to pause and let the darkness ruin his good mood. "Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Tony sobered slightly at the subject change, but only just slightly; he still smiled like a fool. "I was wondering is you felt up to going to the tower in New York for a little bit. There's some business I have to do with Pepper, and she can't come down here to meet us. And I thought you might like it there. The labs there have even better equipment than here." He finished his sales pitch and looked hopefully at Loki. "So, what do you think?"

"That sounds satisfactory," Loki replied, barely even feeling the expected panic. It was just a small blip on his radar, easily ignored. "Will we be teleporting there?" Because out of all the things in Midgard, he liked cars the least. They were slow, confining inventions.

"That's the plan. Jarvis can give you visuals so you know where to land. We can leave in a few, if you're ready." Then Tony pointed at Coro. "I got supplies there for him as well, since I figured he's coming as well."

"He is," Loki agreed.

"Man, I give you a cat and in a few weeks you're already sleeping with it. And here I thought you liked me," Tony joked.

Loki smiled before teleporting to his room, which had seen more and more use as of late now that he didn't confine himself to the lab. He grabbed some clothes and the books he had yet to get around to, storing them in the same pocket of space he held the Casket of Winters.

"Jarvis, show me what room we're suppose to land in." Once he memorized the location, he thanked the AI before going to where Tony was, cat in tow. The man was standing in the lab, flipping through the pages of the latest book Loki had been reading- another abomination trying to explain magic and science in Midgardian terms.

"Do these help at all?" Tony asked, frowning down at the contents of the book. "They all sound even more phony than magic normally does."

"That's because the majority of the content is 'phony'. I was hoping that by reading something I knew was false, my mind would automatically correct the information." He plucked the book out of Tony's hands, frowning at it himself before packing it away. "So far my efforts have been far from fruitful."

"You know Fury's not going to be satisfied to wait forever," Tony commented. "If we don't have some sort of progress he's going to start making demands again."

"I know. I'm trying." To be honest he was doing everything he could think of, but no matter what he did he just could not seem to grasp what he was looking for. All the knowledge had slipped through the gaps, and there was nothing left salvage.

"Well," Tony said, hitting Loki lightly on the shoulder, "If nothing else, we can just pretend like we're getting supplies until we figure out something better. I've always wanted to buy a corpse flower."

There wasn't going to be anything 'better', not without some form of spell-book. Tony had to know that, but he still seemed confident that things would work out in the end. And while Loki wasn't really feeling the same, he tried not to dwell too much on the eventual fallout.

"Are you ready to depart?" He asked, dropping the discussion.

"You can beam me up, Scotty," Tony replied. "And you," he continued, pointing at Choronzon, "better not claw up the furniture at the Tower as well. A 'bit more spunky' my ass."

Loki didn't say anything more, reaching forwards to teleport them to New York. A shimmering green light covered them, and just before they where whisked away he had the strangest thought.

'I'm happy I fell here.'

_...before the storm._


	10. Chapter 10

"_Dominoes of indiscretions down,__  
__Falling all around,__  
__In cycles, in circles__  
__Constantly consuming,__  
__Conquer and devour.__  
__  
__Cause it's time to bring the fire down,__  
__Bridle all this __indiscretion,__  
__Long enough to edify,__  
__And permanently fill this hollow._"

-o-o-o-

Le Corbusier once said, "A hundred times have I thought New York is a catastrophe, and fifty times: it is a beautiful catastrophe."

For the first week they spent in the Tower, it was beautiful. Not in the scenic way- the city was still speckled with construction lots and damaged buildings, remnants of Doom's last terror spree -but it was the vacation Tony hadn't even realized he so desperately needed. Technically he was in New York under an official capacity, signing patents and overseeing a few reactor projects, but that did nothing to ruin his exultant mood. Tony couldn't remember ever being this relaxed before, not without drinking to near-toxic levels.

When they arrived in New York, things had been a bit tense as Loki adjusted to the new surroundings. Tony worried that maybe he should have taken more precautions, but those fears ended up being unfounded. Whatever peace Loki had found wasn't so easily shattered, and that little upturn of his lips remained.

They hadn't gone down to the development floors that day, because unlike Tony's Malibu estate the Tower's labs were not his personal property. They belonged to Stark Industries, and Tony didn't want to mingle with strangers just yet. So they instead spent day one in Tony's penthouse, doing those little things that they normally couldn't- whether it be because Tony didn't have the time or Loki just got too anxious.

They had a chess tournament (that really couldn't be considered that, seeing as all but one win had gone to Loki). Loki indulged Tony's curiosity and had explained the finer aspects of shape-shifting, but when asked to transform into a woman the mischievous god became a crocodile instead, startling Tony into dropping his wine glass.

(The stained carpet and wasted drink had been more than worth it to hear Loki's amused chuckling.)

Tony and Loki made (not) progress on the whole Thanos thing by going on a shopping spree for random junk that could pass as ingredients for a spell (including, but not limited to, that corpse flower, a fulgurite, water from Japan's 'blood pond', and some grass from the inside of Stonehenge). After they had accumulated a hefty bill, Pepper stopped by and joined them for dinner. She brought pasta with her, and all three of them sat around the table to enjoy a proper meal.

It was nice, with the only problem being a minor annoyance; Coro decided he wanted some food as well and leapt onto the table. Of course the clumsy cat had to slip onto Tony's plate, seasoning his pasta primavera with fur. The other two found it hilarious, and the rest of the conversation was conducted at Tony's expense. Coro meanwhile retreated to beneath Loki's chair, futilely trying to get the globs of red sauce off.

When it started getting late and Pep finally had to leave, Loki and Tony had retired to the living room to watch a movie. Honestly, Tony had no idea what it was about- neither of them really paid much attention to the events on the screen –but he greatly enjoyed the moment anyway. It was the picturesque lazy evening, and somewhere in there Tony actually managed to fall asleep on the couch. He woke up naturally- not hastened by a nightmare –to find Loki and Coro curled up together on the cushion next to him.

Their fun didn't stop there, either. The rest of the week followed the same trend, each day passing like there wasn't a care in the world. For the first time since Loki fell- since before that, really –all those pesky little worries were pushed aide.

Tony gave Loki a tour of the eighty-eight percent of Stark Tower that wasn't Pepper's (he just called the crowded parts her portion and let them be. They could be overwhelming to the average Joe, and Tony had no interest in seeing just what it took to break Loki's control. Small steps this time). He showed Loki his pride and joy, the gorgeous reactor that powered the entire building and then some.

The god was suitably intrigued, which sparked a whole discussion on Tony's arc reactor, Vibranium, and the Tesseract. And even though they were proficient in different fields and sometimes had to slow down to explain a concept, it was clearly a conversation between geniuses. Their talk continued while browsing the development levels, gaining them an audience of awe-struck engineers; to make it even more enjoyable, Loki and Tony took to using as much jargon as they could. Some of the noobies looked like they were going to cry.

After the tour they took over one of the more secluded labs and tinkered around with the more abstract projects they normally couldn't budget the time for. Tony exercised his interest in alien technology, like the acclaimed teleportation machine, and while they didn't have the technology (let alone knowledge) to actually make one, they played around with a few theories and designs anyway. There was no real goal in mind, no limitations- it was just them and whatever they wanted to create.

Science wasn't the only thing they had time to indulge in. Some of the other Avengers trickled into the Tower as their work allowed, and generally at least one of them was around at any given time. Tony dragged Loki- though really the god didn't need much prodding -to spend time with whoever was around.

'Team building' had turned into an easy friendship, and everyone got along for the most part. Loki, unlike Tony, really hit it off with Rogers, and they spent plenty of time sparring while Tony hunkered down on the sidelines. Despite how thin and unimposing the two looked in sweats, they had no qualms with tossing the other across the entire room. It made Tony sad for whoever usually sparred with the supercharged Captain (Loki came from an entire country of muscled freaks, Tony wasn't too worried about them).

Natasha was another favorite, though how it was fun to try and pick each other apart verbally Tony didn't know. She and Loki danced around with veiled taunts and carefully sculpted inquiries, the reward of information only slightly better than the triumph of outwitting the other. Most of their attempts ended in ties, which just made them even more determined the next round.

Near the end of the week Barton showed up, and he too joined in (he also used the socializing as an excuse to steal more of Tony's scotch, much to the billionaire's displeasure. Some of that stuff was one of a kind, damn it). They duked it out at the archery range, though Loki proved to be far better at throwing knives than shooting a bow. Not that he was bad at archery, but there was something to be said about the ability to throw a small dagger through both the bull's eye and the wall behind it.

Bruce was the only one they didn't get to hang out with- much to Tony's displeasure. Putting all three geniuses together would have been intellectual ecstasy -but that was because SHIELD was busy utilizing his knowledge of radiation to do... something. Tony didn't bother hacking the system to find out.

Over the course of the week there were still the inevitable blips here and there, but they were manageable. During those times Loki would slink, pale and jittery, back to Tony's floor. What he did then depended on just how strongly the void in his mind was calling. When he was really anxious he exercised his habit of desecrating the inside of books. Otherwise he'd indulge in his new found pleasure of being a feline, either sleeping with Coro or joining the little menace in tearing through the penthouse.

While Tony still wasn't totally sold on the pet idea- Coro had been deceptively calm at the shelter. In reality, if there was something to knock over or claw up, the cat was more than happy to do so- he couldn't deny that the little bugger was wonderful for Loki. Despite that initial dislike, the god took to the cat like a duck to water. Watching them chase each other around the couch, you would think they've had Coro for years (you'd also think that Loki was just a normal cat, and not someone who was once commonly worshiped as a god, but that was another matter).

From the very beginning it was clear that Loki desired to be around others. In those early days, when the god was empty-eyed and automated, he would still gravitate towards Tony. No matter what Loki tried to pretend, he thrived on interaction. Getting a cat that could be there whenever Loki needed someone was the right choice to make, and Tony was glad to personally make a donation to the LA Regional Shelter.

Really, Tony could spend hours reflecting on just how perfect that week in New York was. Everything went right, and it painted such a bright picture for the future. It was one of, if not _the_, best week of Tony's life.

But then that beauty burned, and all that remained was the catastrophe.

On the eighth day Tony jolted awake to a blaring whine. It thrummed through the entire room, screeching in his ears. He was stumbling out of his bed before he even realized what he was doing, sleep-clouded mind rapidly searching for an explanation. Briefly he entertained the notion that Jarvis was just messing with him again, but that idea was crushed when he saw Loki slip out from beneath a startled Coro and jump to the floor. The god wasted no time in changing back into regular form, instantly alert.

That's when it clicked; it was the alarm reserved for when the Tower was under attack.

"What's going on?" Loki asked, composed except for the involuntary wince whenever the pitch of the alarm rose sharply.

"I'm not quite sure." Tony replied over the clamor, voice lost in the wailing tones. "Jarvis!" He shouted, "Knock it off!" The siren abruptly dropped into silence, and Jarvis's voice rose to fill the gap.

"My apologies, sir. Stark Tower has entered a level three emergency."

"Yeah, I got that. I want to know why." Tony had been having a lovely dream with some busty raven-haired beauties (and not sand-chafed men with foreign tongues and purloined guns). If this was a false alarm or something, he'd be pissed.

But he programmed Jarvis better than that, and the AI elaborated, "It appears that Doom has finally resurfaced, sir. His robots are attacking the city, your egotistical building included." Without the howling alarm covering everything up, Tony could actually hear the faint rumble of explosions outside, and a quick glance out the nearest window revealed fresh plumes of smoke. Shit.

Well if Doom wanted to bring this fight to Tony's door, fine. He could take it. But it wasn't just himself he had to worry about anymore.

Long use to this routine, Iron Man snapped to action. First things first, he needed Doom's worst nightmare. "Loki, can you go get the-" He glanced to where the god had been, but no one was there. "...Right, he's already on it." That just left the suit.

"Jarvis, get me Mark Sixteen," Tony ordered as he spun on his heel, heading to the small work station within the penthouse. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, fueled with each slight tremor of the building as a battle commenced outside. Not for a second did he forget that Pepper was in New York. More than that, she was in this very building, conveniently labeled with a flamboyant 'Stark' just so Doom had no problem figuring out what to unleash his frustrations on.

Frustrations that would only be added to once Loki and Tony shut down his little toys again. Which... it didn't make any sense for Shock-fest to come here with that being the case. Maybe he thought that Tony was back in Malibu, and planned to pull back before the Dragon Slayer was brought into play? Because with it, Doom's robots were as good as cement fodder.

Whatever. Tony would worry about it later. Right now, the suit was waiting for him. As the metal wrapped around his limbs, encasing him in red and gold, Loki teleported into the room in a flurry of green mist. In his hands he held the misleadingly small DS, and he waited for the final pieces of the suit to slide into place so he could attach it to the armor.

The god didn't waste a second, stepping forwards just as Jarvis pulled back. He slid in behind Tony, deftly hooking the small box up to the base of Tony's neck. It latched on tightly, sinking into the seams until it blended in perfectly. Once he double checked that it was secure, Loki stepped back.

"You got it?" Tony asked, twisting his head slightly to appraise Loki's work (not that he really needed to, but it was a hard habit to break after just having Jarvis for a copilot). The Dragon Slayer was set up perfectly. "Sweet. Alright, time to gank some robots. Jarvis, open her up."

"My pleasure, sir," the AI replied as a portion of the ceiling began to shift, opening up a circular portal to the sky. Before rocketing into the air, Tony turned to Loki. "Talk to you in a bit, darling." He gave the god a cheeky salute, then he tilted his head to face the sky. "Show time."

Iron Man blasted through the hole in the roof, instantly jumping into the fray. It only took a second before the nearest Doombot caught sight of him and switched modes from demolition to man-slaughter. It fired at him with gusto, but Tony just dived out of the way before returning the favor. His magic-enhanced repulsors had much shorter prep time, and the Doombot spiraled into a parked SUV.

He wasn't without a dance partner for long, and two other robots blipped onto his screen. He threw himself at them, and while they tangoed Jarvis reported, "Sir, I am connecting you to the Avengers communication line."

"Got it..." Three more little red dots appeared on Tony's HUD, and he cursed. "Aw, crap. Vicky just doesn't know when to quit, does he? Alright fellas, let's settle this." He distanced himself from Stark Tower, unwilling to let it become collateral damage. He busied himself with not getting electrocuted while he waited for Jarvis to do his thing.

It was only a moment later that Romanov spoke up, getting straight to business. "Stark, we have about two dozen Doombots- exact number still unknown -concentrated in the Manhattan area."

"Well that's just perfect." Like there wasn't enough to fight already. "Who else are we working with?"

"I'm here." Rogers piped up, voice accompanied by the crackle of static.

"Yes, thank you Captain Obvious," Tony muttered as the Cap's garbled voice said, "One second..."

There was some shifting on the other end, a few loud bangs, then Rogers again, this time crystal clear. "I hate these headsets."

"They wouldn't give you so much trouble if you just used them properly," Tony retorted before continuing, "Is that it?" Two dozen was a bit much for three people, even with the Dragon Slayer. It's not like they could pull the same stunt as last time. That was a one-trick show pony.

"We're the only three in the immediate area." Romanov said, sounding just as peeved about that as he did. "Further reinforcements are pending."

Meaning they had to make do with what they got. "Alright, well Loki should be online in a moment. Then you can give us the lowdown on the situation."

"I'm already here," aforementioned god cut in. "What's the situation?"

"Victor is being pissy," Tony unhelpfully replied, scowling as he fired at one of the Doombots and missed.

"That tends to be the theme with people who blow up cities, yes." Loki replied amusedly before bringing them back on topic with a quick, "Romanov?"

"SHIELD has confirmed twenty-six robots in the city, traveling in groups no larger than four. Main targets appear to be Stark Towers-"

"Taking care of that." Tony cut in, finally scoring a hit against one of the little varmints that was loitering around his beloved building. Loki and Pepper (as well as a lot of other random people he didn't know the names of) were inside. No way was he letting volatile robots have a go at it.

"-Wall Street," Romanov continued, ignoring his interruption, "the United Nations Headquarters, and Fort Hamilton. Attacks however are not limited to these areas." Of course not, that'd be too easy. Super villains aren't content unless they are overly obnoxious. "The police have already arrived at the scene, and the first SHIELD squad will arrive in about ten minutes. Priority is the removal of all hostiles. Capture is not required."

"So blow 'em up or knock them down. I can do that." That was the easy kind of mission. No politics, no tactics, no reservations- just the brutal efficiency of science.

(There was a reason Tony had loved his old job so much, before one nerdy man and a cave changed everything.)

"What's our plan on using the Dragon Slayer?" Loki asked, and Tony could practically hear the gears in the god's mind turning. He was so glad Loki worked with him, and not against him.

"He already knows we have it, so no point not taking advantage of his stupidity." But that statement didn't make a lot of sense, because Doom wasn't that stupid. Far from it, in fact. So why the blonde act?

"There's a high possibility that Doom has something else planned." Loki said, sharing Tony's doubts. "But we'll use the Dragon Slayer while it works."

"Fine with me."

Tony banked to the left, leaving his defeated quandary to go pursue another small group that was approaching the Tower. When they noticed Iron Man the robots started to split up, but they weren't quite fast enough; when Loki switched on the Dragon Slayer all three went down, even the one that Tony had thought was a bit out of range. He wrote the discrepancy off as a fluke, something caused by variations in the DS's magic, and turned to go find more things to take down.

As far as mini bosses went, this battle was surprisingly easy. Suspiciously so, actually. As more and more robots were mowed down without Doom pulling any type of tactical retreat, Tony started getting cautious. It was obvious Doom was losing, so why did he continue wasting robots like this? Already the ground was littered with his fallen tools, and more were coming to join them.

Between the badass DS and Tony's equally badass suit, only a few robots remained. And as he took down two of the remaining four with relative ease, there was no longer any doubt in Tony's mind that Doom was up to something. But what? Was this just a diversion for something bigger, or was there something he wasn't seeing?

"Be careful," Loki cautioned, sounding just as on edge as Tony was getting. Neither knew what was going on, but something wasn't right.

"Aren't I always?" Tony joked, but he was on the proverbial edge of his seat, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

But then the last two robots went down, and Romanov gave the all clear.

"...That was it?" Tony asked, bewildered. That couldn't be it.

"All Doombots have been accounted for. SHIELD's picking them up now." Romanov said, her tone clearly saying, 'If we're done, then great. If not, we'll deal with it'.

"It's clear where I am, too. I'm not seeing any trap." Rogers contributed, but Tony wasn't convinced. This didn't make sense.

"Something is wrong." Loki stated, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

"Yeah, but what?" Tony hovered high in the air, scanning the horizon intently; he half expected to see a miniature army blotting out the skyline, but nothing was there. "We used the Dragon Slayer, they fell, so what are we missing? It just doesn't-"

And then the other shoe dropped. In one split second, things went from under control to absolute bedlam. The com screeched to life, with Romanov shouting something about a bot getting back up, and her desperate warning was followed by people screaming. Rogers was also shouting something, jarbled sentences about an ambush and something not working. Tony's com became an indistinct mess, with only bits getting through:

"-just got back up-" Someone cried out. There was an explosion. "-look out, they are still-" "-was just an act-" More explosions. "-need help over here!" Lots of screeching and panicked shouting.

And then, louder than all of that, was Loki's urgent cry.

"Tony, behind you!"

Iron Man reacted instantly, flinging an arm out as he tried to whip around, but even then he was too late. Something sharp and agonizing- like nails from a forge, molten hot and merciless -slid through his armor and deep into his back. He gave a strangled cry, adding to the mayhem, and instinctively tried to twist away from his attacker. Uncoordinated and with the entire world a blinding stretch of excruciating pain, he only served to twist the blade in deeper, tearing muscle and flesh alike.

He screamed.

Then there was a gravelly voice in his ear, low and malicious. "I win," Doom gloated, then Tony's world erupted into an electric haze.

"Tony! To-" The suit shorted, and Loki's horrified voice disappeared along with the repulsors keeping Tony aloft.

Gravity took over just as the darkness killed the light.

-o-o-o-

Tony fell.

Illuminated by the midday sun, he fell.

Pitted upon a blade, blood oozing to varnish cold metal, he fell.

Like a puppet with its strings cut, limp and tumbling, unable to escape, he fell.

He fell, so Loki did the only thing there was to do; he caught Tony, so they could fall together.

One second he was watching the screen, his suspicion turning into terror as everything slipped into place, and the next he was in the air, arms clutching tight at metal while they plummeted. There was no time to think- no need to think. Tony was in danger, and Loki needed to help him. It was as simple as that.

So he went to Tony without a moment of hesitation, warping into the air alongside him. Then it was more chaos than anything, with just one goal: Tony wasn't allowed to die. The Iron Man suit crashed into him, jarring Loki's bones and sending them both down together. He struggled to get a secure hold, Tony's momentum sending him careening. Finally he managed to latch on, and he struggled to stop their sickening spinning.

The world was whipping by far too quickly, and panic clouded Loki's thoughts. He wanted to teleport them away, get them out of the sky, but he could barely tell where he was let alone get them somewhere safely. There was nowhere to go but down, and the ground rushed up to meet them.

Loki hit first, using his body to cushion Tony's. He barely even registered the pain, the crushing weight of three hundred pounds smashing his body deep into the pavement. All he was aware of was Tony, and the sharp, constant thought of 'Tony can't die'.

Iron Man's momentum sent him rolling off of Loki and skidding across the pavement, leaving puddles and splatters of blood in his wake. Despite his heavy landing, Tony didn't even make a sound.

'He can't be dead.'

The very moment Loki's bones sunk back into his flesh and knitted back together he was on his feet, rushing to Tony and falling to his knees beside him. Bruise mottled arms hesitated in the air for just a moment, then Loki made his decision and flipped the man onto his stomach so he could get at the gushing wound.

Twisted sheets of titanium and exposed wires marred the edges of the jagged slash in the back of the armor. It stretched from the base of Tony's neck (the Dragon Slayer was just scrape metal now, but Loki didn't care. Their creation was useless- next time Loki wouldn't just satisfy himself with killing Doom's creations; he was going to kill them man himself) across to his right shoulder, and it refused to stop oozing scarlet. Underneath the armor was an even greater wound, but Loki couldn't see it clearly. It was just a mess of red metal and red blood. He needed to get the armor out of the way.

Just as he reached up to flip Tony over, to try and get Jarvis to release the suit, something rammed heavily into Loki's back. The sudden attack sent bolts of agony down his spin, and he nearly collapsed onto Tony's prone body. Gritting his teeth against the pain he whipped his head around, one arm slung protectively over Tony.

There was a Doombot behind Loki, hovering in the air with its outreached hand still smoking. Erratic blue light collected as it prepared to fire again, glaring down at him with artificial eyes.

Loki never gave it the chance. His magic, already gnashing at the bit in his terror, blasted from his raised palm to obliterate the robot that even dared to harm Tony. Chunks of metal tore away from the machine's frame, and it flung in mangled shreds at the ground, never to rise again.

This time when Loki turned his attention back to Tony, he kept his senses extended. No one was going to get at the man again, not while Loki was there to protect him.

Part of the god- a large, seething part -wanted to utterly destroy everything of Doom's right then. He wanted to go to where this elusive Victor was and kill the man with his own hands, rip him apart bit by bit and make him scream. But he forced that urge down, forced it to listen to reason.

Loki wouldn't leave Tony's side, not until he knew the man would live. He didn't want to be apart of a world that didn't have this one arrogant, intelligent, caring mortal in it.

'Tony's not allowed to die.'

As Loki rolled Tony over onto his back, the man's head lolling lifelessly, he could finally hear the world clamoring around him. It was still pandemonium, everyone fighting to gain ground against the revived robots. Among the explosions and reports were people yelling and screaming. One shout rang clearer to Loki than all the others. "Stark is down! I repeat, Stark is down!"

It had been months since Loki had so keenly felt the pull of the fog- of that insatiable pit inside of his mind- but as his fear of losing Tony sent his heart racing, that odious feeling was quick to reacquaint itself. Just as unrelenting as he remembered, it clung to him, tearing his mind as it tried to drag him down.

But Loki didn't have the time to blank out- Tony didn't have the time for him to blank out- so he shoved it down and fought back to the surface. He had to stay tethered or Tony would bleed out. Would still bleed out, if he couldn't get the man out of the suit and staunch the blood flow.

Loki ripped the suits mask off with one harsh yank, revealing the man inside. The sight made the god's inside freeze, and he felt ill. Everything had been going so perfect. Why did this have to happen now?

Tony's skin was pale and clammy, his breath was harsh and stilted. Despite Loki's efforts the man didn't escape their impromptu landing unscathed, and blood from the gash in his temple flowed over purpling skin.

"Tony..." Loki whispered, pleaded. "Tony, you need to wake up. You need to get this armor off." He shook the man's shoulder slightly, but if crashing into the road didn't wake Tony, a soft shake wasn't going to either. Realizing the futility of that effort, Loki desperately tried the other inhabitant of the suit. "Jarvis, you need to unlatch the suit." But the AI was also silent, and the prison of metal remained.

Forcing down another wave of fear and clambering **black**, Loki tried to focus long enough to remember how to manually disengage the armor. There was no other choice, and while he feared that some of the metal was lodged in Tony's skin it was riskier to not move the armor at all. He dug his fingers into the weak spots between plates, prying the gleaming sheets apart.

Starting at Tony's chest and moving carefully towards the back, it took over a minute for Loki to finally ease the last section from where it was melding to the man's skin; it was one of the longest minutes in Loki's life. He dropped the moist mass to the ground and carefully rotated Tony on his stomach again- all Tony did was pant shallowly, unable to do anything more than fight to keep breathing -and pried blood drenched cotton away from the wound.

There was nothing pretty or skilled about it. It was deep and wide, with singed edges and split sinew. Beneath the pulverized flesh, little bits of bone shone through. And now without the pressure of the suit weighing on it, the furrow bled even more heavily, coating Loki and the ground.

Loki wanted to scream. Scream, and cry, and yell, and hurt, and go curl up in a corner to make it all go away. But Loki did none of those things. Not as thick, warm blood gushed onto his trembling hands, pushing out beneath his palms as he tried futilely to cover the wound. Tony was just a human, a weak, frail human, and he was dying. Loki didn't want him to die.

He coaxed his magic to his hands, trying to tame the tempest, to guide it to heal instead of destroy. But it bucked under his control, refusing to be used when he needed it the most. There were spells to fix this sort of thing- he had known them, should still know them -but like always they eluded him. Where there should be words and incantations there was only silence. Green light flooded into his hands, yet he couldn't use the magic; most of it dissipated, vanishing into the air instead of sinking into Tony's skin and mending his flesh.

"No, you can't do this to me," Loki found himself whispering to the glowing wisps. "I need to fix him. You have to let me fix him." But his magic didn't not obey, just as his mind did not obey. His own body betrayed him, and even though the magic was eager to be used he could not use it to save Tony.

But there was still something he could use it for, and when he heard another robot slinking towards him- thinking with its feeble brain that it could avoid detection, daring to consider that it was better than Loki -he hurled a mass of writhing energy at it. It went down in smoke, but Loki was not satisfied. He could crush every robot, murder Doom himself, but that would not help the gasping, dying man beneath his fingers.

"I need to fix him," he keened, and more magic pooled into his hands. Desperately Loki raked his mind for anything, anything at all that could help him, but there was nothing.

(Unforgivable His weakness, his inability- no longer could it remain that way.)

Loki, once a renowned sorcerer, was limited to just trying to hold the wound close with his hands. When it kept leaking he tore off a chunk of Tony's shirt and tried to use it as well, but it barely helped. There was so much blood everywhere.

The faint whir of motors preceded another bunch of robots, and Loki rendered them scrapes with a simple flick of his fingers. He was stuck in a limbo: put pressure on the wound, annihilate a robot, listen to Tony's feathery heartbeat, try once again to cast a proper spell, put more pressure on the wound as it soaked his hands, hate that the Doombots couldn't feel pain as he dismembered another one. It repeated constantly, with no end in sight but Tony's impending death.

There were people speaking in the background, along with the wail of sirens and rumble of explosions. He could hear it, but none of it mattered. There was only Tony, Loki, and the god's fatal inability. Words came to him, but they meant nothing, drowned out by the mantra shouting inside of his head.

'Please, let me help him.'

"Where's Stark? Medics are on their way."

'I need to help him. Tony can't die.'

"Down there, but... I don't think it's safe to get close. Loki showed up out of nowhere to catch Stark, but... There's something really wrong with him. I think this is what Fury was talking about."

'I need to fix him. Tony. Tony. _Tony_. He can't die.'

"Someone has to. We can't reach Stark, and Jarvis says he's lost all contact with the suit. There's no time to wait for Loki to pull himself together."

'I can't fix this. I don't know what to do. Tony's going to die.'

"I'll go. If he lashes out, I have better chances than anyone else here."

The sticky warmth covering Loki's arms coupled with his lack of control reminded the god far to sharply of his latest nightmare, and he fought to keep his nausea down. Around him everything swum in and out of focus, a mess of sensations both real and imagined; there was anger and despair and blank and black and burning and freezing and death and life.

Behind him came the rustle of cloth and the clatter of disturbed stones. It didn't click in his mind that those weren't the sounds of a Doombot, and he reacted immediately to defend Tony. Magic was already on the surface of his skin, just waiting for a definite target. His eyes locked on to something moving towards him and he raised his arm to-

Loki stopped the fatal build-up just in time, barely avoiding attacking Rogers as the superhero walked towards him. One of the Captain's hands was raised in a calming gesture while the other clutched tightly at his shield.

"Loki," The hero said slowly, inching closer to him like one would a startled animal. Rogers lowered the spangled shield to the ground to hold both hands in the air, a universal gesture of peace. "There are some medics on their way to help Tony. But you have to let them, okay? They're going to help him."

For a moment it eluded Loki why Rogers was approaching him so tentatively. They knew each other, and Loki clearly had no intention of harming the hero (unless he hurt Tony, then Loki would eradicate him without a second thought). He had a problem with Doom and Doom alone.

But then Loki realized he absolutely covered with Tony's blood; it was clumped in his hair and smeared all over his skin. His white shirt a rusty brown, ripped open from when his own body had broken against the road. Then there was the fact that he was practically on top of Tony, trying to obscure the man from view. One of Loki's hands was still on Tony's back, glowing a futile green as he held it over the wound that just wouldn't stop bleeding.

"Everything's going to be okay," Rogers placated as he kept getting closer, tensing up everytime Loki so much as twitched. Logically Loki knew he should ease up, pull away from Tony so Rogers could help... but he didn't want to. He felt like if he let go of Tony now, he'd never get him back.

With every step Rogers took, Loki pressed down a bit harder on Tony's chest; he could feel the sluggish beating of a heart beneath his fingers, and that faltering thu-thump did nothing to comfort him. No matter how hard Loki's hands pressed against the broken flesh, Tony didn't make a sound; he was deathly silent.

Romanov's voice crackled over Roger's headset, startling the edgy hero. "A quinjet is about a minute from your location. We're doing our best to hold the bots off so they can get Tony away to safety. Is it safe for them to land?"

"I don't know," Rogers replied, keeping his voice quiet in an effort to keep the god from hearing. "He hasn't tried to stop me yet, but I'm worried how he'll react to strangers."

"I'll inform them that he has some mental damage,"- wrong, Loki wanted to protest. Right, the fog in his mind agreed- "and to be careful, but we need to get Tony out of here," Romanov asserted, then the speakers went quiet again.

Roger's returned his attention to Loki, switching back to that soft cadence. "They're almost here, and then Tony will be fine. But you have to let them take him when they show up. Do you understand?"

Somewhere beneath the rolling seas of turmoil, Loki knew he should feel insulted with the way Rogers was treating him. There was something wrong with his brain, sure, but he wasn't an invalid. He was far smarter than the soldier, even when his mind rotted inside the void. It was just another reason why he wanted Tony, who always respected him even when he was empty inside. Tony, who was in danger; Loki didn't want him to die.

"I know, so when the medics get here you need to let them do their job," Rogers was saying, and Loki was unaware that his own lips had moved. Everything was moving too fast, leaving him behind; yet it felt like time was at a crawl, with things falling apart and no end in sight.

The distant roar of a motor was slowly getting louder, and the beating of the heart beneath his palm was slowly getting quieter.

Rogers, having finally reached Loki, crouched down beside him. He put a gentle hand on Loki's shoulder and watched Tony- beautiful Tony, who gave Loki everything and asked for nothing in return, going above and beyond the call of duty. Tony, who was the pinnacle of Loki's new world, bleeding out under his hands -with sorrow, yet for some reason that sadness intensified when Captain America looked at Loki, unharmed but just as damaged.

"He'll be fine," Rogers assured one last time before rising to his feet. He stood guard over the two as the quinjet bore down on their position, bringing with it people who could actually save Tony's life.

The small plane went from being just a distant speck on the horizon to a full-sized monstrosity circling overhead.

Loki felt his control sipping as the quinjet's engine roared in his ears, just as he felt Tony's life slipping away beneath his fingers. Ironically, it was his terror that kept him from the blankness that same anxiety birthed. He grounded himself with the chant of 'I can't let Tony die.'

After what seemed like a lifetime the quinjet finally landed amongst the rubble, and when the cargo door slid open a team of medics came rushing out. They rolled a gurney between them, skillfully guiding it around the cracks and strewn rubble. Loki studied every nuance of their body language, ready to strike out if they showed any sign of being a threat.

"Loki, they're just going to do their job," Rogers soothed as the faceless medics crowded closer. But they were mortals; they couldn't be trusted with Tony's life.

(And Loki was broken; he could be trusted even less.)

One of the medics tried to cajole Loki to remove his hands, but even though he wanted to let them help Tony he couldn't seem to get his hands to budge. It wasn't until Rogers intervened, his super strength enough to pry Loki away, that crimson gloved hands were removed from Tony's wounds. The medics immediately descended upon Tony, filling Loki's vacated spot. They buzzed around the fallen man like vultures to carrion, grabbing at his limbs and pressing fresh bandages against his back. When they lifted the limp body up on to the gurney and begin to wheel it towards the jet, Loki resisted the irrational urge to hurt them. Tony was _his_, and they were taking him away.

As the distance between Loki and Tony grew, the god could no longer resist the intense desire to follow. He yanked free of Roger's hold and rose to his feet, lurching in Tony's direction. Even if he wanted to stay, to make Doom and his pathetic creations rue the day they touched what belonged to Loki, God of Chaos, he _had_ to be with Tony.

"Loki-" Rogers began to protest, latching onto Loki's, but the god cut him off.

"I am going with him. If you do not trust me, then come with. But you will not keep me from him." It was the clearest Loki's thoughts had been since Tony fell, and he glared down at Rogers. Then he yanked his arm loose, heading to the quinjet with a single-minded determination. The Captain let him go, choosing to neither stop him nor follow.

No one stopped him as he boarded the aircraft either, though they gave him a wide berth as they worked. That was more than fine with him, and Loki ignored them in return. He only had eyes for Tony, pale and motionless amidst all the chaotic red. An oxygen mask was strapped to the man's tilted face- Iron Man's helmet chucked thoughtlessly into a corner -and an IV fed fresh blood into parched veins. People were in the process of prying and cutting the remaining armor from Tony's hands and legs, the useless pieces joining the mask.

Against the wall, Loki observed all of this. He never looked away, not even as the plane roared to life and they rose into the air. Each muscle was coiled beneath his skin, ready to spring but without a target. Around him the medics conversed in hurried voices, saying things that Loki didn't want to hear:

'Severe blood loss.' 'Possible spinal damage.' 'Muscle trauma.' 'Electric burns.'

It was all wrong. He wanted them to say that Tony would be okay, that life could go back to how it was just yesterday, but no one did. It was all complications and the possibility of lifelong impairment- if Tony even lived in the first place.

Those words were the final straw. For over a year Loki allowed himself to be complacent. He sat by and let the holes in his mind exist, writing it off because he was too cowardly to pursue the remedy- to go back to Asgard and take what rightfully belonged to him. No longer would that be the case.

Once he knew Tony was okay, he was going to fix his magic problem once and for all. If Asgard was the only place that had what he needed, then so be it. He would go to Asgard. And while he was there, he'd fix the other problem that had been bothering him.

Tony wasn't allowed to die. Not just today, but ever. Loki's natural lifespan was far greater than that of a mortal, and it had always been obvious to him that Tony would only be a blip in his long life. But he didn't want that. He wanted Tony to live together with him for thousands of years, not just the fifty or so the man hd left. And to do that, he needed one of Idunn's apples.

Loki wanted to never return to Asgard. He wanted to just forget that it ever existed. But for Tony, he would go back. He'd sneak into the palace and steal artificial immortality for the one man who meant everything to him. Regardless of it Tony wanted him to or not.

When the loud whir of the quinjet's engine quieted, it took Loki a moment to realize that the plane landed. Tony was rolled from the hold and into the Hellicarrier, and Loki followed like a wraith- staying out of the way but never straying far. A few people tried to stop him, though they were not the same people Loki had come here with. These people took one look at his bloody form and frantically tried to help him.

"It's not my blood," he snarled at them, shoving them away so he could get to where Tony was. When some tenacious people kept pestering him, one of the medics that had helped Tony intervened.

"He's alright. Worry about people who actually are injured," she said, staring them down until the crowd thinned. She turned to Loki then, like she wanted to ask him something, but after a moment she stopped. Instead she just told him, "Talk to me if you need anything," and went back into the throng of doctors.

They were hooking Tony up to all sorts of machines that whined and whooshed. Leading the tempo was the heart monitor- beeping incessantly: a glorious, obnoxious noise that pittered and pattered, faltered and thrummed. It kept going as the doctors sliced into Tony's flesh, taking what Doom ruined and trying to piece it back together again.

It wasn't until that erratic, slow song became a smooth ditty that the flurry of activity slowed down. The congealing blood was wiped from Tony's skin, and the ugly wound was hidden beneath pristine white. Finally Loki heard the words he had craved.

"He's in the clear."

But even though he knew now that Tony would be alright, his decision did not change. This time they were relatively lucky. What if they weren't the next time?

Sneaking into Asgard was no simple task, and sneaking into the palace was even harder. Not because of how well guarded it was- he had bypassed that security time and time again -but for the very fact that he had lived there for so long. It was a tangled mess of memories, with all of the joy covered by the ache of betrayal.

Just the thought of returning invited swarming black to dig deeper into his brain. He would be his own greatest obstacle, with his traitorous mind working against him. If he failed- if he was caught or even just seen -then that was it. His little paradise here would be over. Asgard would know he was alive, and they would come for him.

But Tony was worth the risk, even if Loki knew the man would vehemently protest. He would say Loki wasn't ready yet, and Loki agreed. That still wouldn't stop him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Someone asked him, pulling him out of a daze he didn't even realize he had fallen into. It was that same woman, and while she looked a bit unnerved to be talking to him she didn't back down.

"I am unharmed," he repeated. His cloths were torn and he was drenched with blood- some of it really was his own, shed before his skin knitted back together -but his body was fine now. His mind was a different matter, but no one could help with that. No one but Tony.

"He'll be okay, you know," She said, undeterred. "It was a close call, but he was lucky. He should be able to make a full recovery."

Loki didn't reply. There was nothing to say beyond, 'I should have been able to fix him when this happened', and that was not this woman's problem.

"Do you want to wash off or change your clothes?" She asked. "He's not going anywhere."

No, Tony wasn't, but Loki was. He wanted to be around the man just a bit longer, because if things went wrong this could very well be the last time he saw Tony.

Distantly he heard a familiar voice join the fray, and Loki turned to see Rogers talking with someone on the other end of the hall. He was still in his burnt, sooty uniform, covered with small tears and little cuts. The person he was talking to nodded and pointed in Loki's direction. The Captain followed the gesture, and when he saw the god his expression tightened.

"That's him. Thank you." Rogers walked over, trying and failing to smile at the god.

"Hey, are you alright? I tried to get back here as soon as I could." Rogers said, and he sounded so sincere it made something inside of Loki ache.

"I'm fine," He lied. Rogers wasn't Tony; Loki only didn't like lying to Tony.

Not that he was at all believable, with his limbs still trembling imperceptibly and his mind randomly disconnecting. It didn't matter. Loki would be fine once he got his hands on some spell books and Idunn's apple. He and Tony could go back to that peculiar happiness- _forever_.

"He's going to be okay." Rogers reassured again, the same words everyone kept echoing back at him.

"I know," Loki said. Which meant he had no excuse to stay here longer.

"I'll be here if you need me." The hero continued, obvious to Loki's intentions.

"Thank you, but I actually should get going." Even if all he wanted to do was stay.

"Go? Go where?" Something seemed to dawn on Rogers then, and he looked alarmed. "Loki, don't-" He reached for Loki, but he was too late; Loki had already become cloaked in green, his magic whisking him away.

The god reappeared inside the penthouse of Stark Tower, the room somehow seeming so much colder now that Tony wasn't there as well.

"Jarvis," Loki said, forcing himself to speak before he could reconsider. "I need you to give Tony a message for me when he wakes. Tell him..."


	11. Chapter 11

"_Clever got me this far,  
__Then tricky got me in.  
__Eye on what I'm after..._

_Time to feed the monster,  
__I don't need another friend.  
__Comfort is a mystery,  
__Crawling out of my own skin.  
__Just give me what I came for,  
__Then I'm out the door again._"

-o-o-o-

"I'm sorry- for everything.

I won't be there when you wake up. There is something I need in Asgard, and I can't hold off going any longer. I know you're going to be angry with me, but I need to do this. I do not know when I will return, but I will come back to you. I promise you that.

Tony... I'm so glad you're okay. When you fell, I... It was... Please, don't do something stupid before I come back. I'm going to make everything right again; you just need to trust me. Everything will be okay. I can fix this.

Don't worry about me. I'll be fine, and after I set things right I'll come back home. You just need to wait a little bit more.

Take care of Choronzon while I'm gone, and if I don't- no, forget about that. This isn't farewell. I will come back; I just need you to wait for me. I promise, Tony, I'll make things right. And... I'm sorry."

The audio clip faded into a silence that lasted only for a moment, ended by the loud smash of a fist colliding with an innocent wall.

"Shit!" Tony hissed, both from the pain shooting up his arm and the message that was still echoing in his head.

"Sir, may I suggest that you do not aggravate your injuries further? Otherwise I will be forced to contact Miss Potts."

"Shut up, Jarvis!" He snapped, bringing his fist back down against the plaster. The impact raced through his body to jar his other shoulder- the one held together only by a plethora of stitches and bandages. Fiery pain erupted in his back, and he swore again, this time pained and quiet. He unclenched his fist- knuckles now bruised and raw -to clutch at the deep ache behind his collar bone.

"Sir, it is an hour past when you should have taken your pain medication. Punching the wall is even less advised than usual." The AI spoke again, not at all deterred by Tony's harsh words. If anything he actually sounded concerned, hovering over the engineer like an electronic mother hen.

"He's such an idiot," Tony lamented, barely listening over the roar of his own thoughts. Holding his shoulder- as if that would stop the twisting, digging pain -he sunk into a nearby chair (one of Loki's favorites, he was quick to note). Each beat of his heart sent agony racing through him, and now that his pain killers had all but worn off the stabs of pain were intense enough that they made it hard to even think.

But no matter how much his body hurt, it could not compare to the pain of Loki's actions. "Idiot," Tony repeated, bowing his head and squeezing his eyes shut. "Why would you do this?"

"I am confident he will return, sir." Jarvis tried again, the only thing he could do without a body- which led Tony to wonder if it was hard on Jarvis to only be able to watch events unfold around him; that even if he wanted to, he was unable to help under his own power. All he could do was ask others to help on his behalf. Maybe it was time Tony invested in getting the robot a body of his own, so he didn't have to feel useless. Loki would like that… except for Loki wasn't there anymore.

"You don't know that." How could he, when not even Loki was sure he'd return? For 'not being a farewell', that was as much of a goodbye as any. Returning to Asgard was a fool's errand, one that would not end well for anyone, and they both knew it. That 'I'll be fine' Loki said seemed more like the god was trying- and failing -to convince himself; he knew what he was attempting was suicidal. "He's not coming back."

"And you don't know that he won't, sir." Jarvis retorted, but Tony was already convinced of his own words. Loki was gone, and he was never coming back. So even though Jarvis kept talking, Tony stopped listening.

While he brooded, the throbbing in his shoulder worsened until it was bordering unbearable. Every little shift was agony, and breathing became a burden. His pain medication was across the room, but even though Tony sorely regretted not taking it, the prospect of standing up to get it was worse than just staying put. He slumped farther into the seat, dazed and grimacing; his fingers rested useless on the covered stitches, unable to take away the pain.

Tony's not sure how long he sat there, suspended in pain and melancholy, before a hand on his uninjured shoulder jolted him into awareness. The sharp movement brought a pained hiss to his lips, but a surge of hope blocked it out. _Loki_, he automatically thought. Loki was back, and-

"Jarvis told me to come," Pepper said, ruthlessly crushing Tony's feeble dream. Kneeling down in front of him, one of her hands clasped Tony's knee and the other reached up to cup his cheek. She gently tilted his chin, forcing Tony to actually look at her.

Pepper's face was marred by worry, her eyebrows drawn and her lips down-turned; Tony wanted to smile at her, to ease her stress, but with the pounding in his arm and cacophony in his mind all that came to his lips was a grimace. That just deepened her frown, and her eyes roved over to the red speckled bandage- Tony didn't have the energy to put a shirt back on after changing the gauze; he didn't have the energy to do much of anything.

"Oh, Tony," Pep said softly, looking back at his haggard face. "You can't keep doing this to yourself. It's not going to make anything better."

Tony shut his eyes, not wanting to see her disappointment, and tilted away from her steadfast hand. "I don't know what else to do," he admitted.

"Well for starters, you could take your medication," She said, drawing her hands back and rising to her feet. Tony peeked his eyes open, but he kept his gaze locked on the floor as she talked. "If you aren't going to stay at a hospital, then you need to at least take care of yourself. Where did you put your prescription?"

"In the kitchen," Tony mumbled, in too much pain to try and resist. Besides, it wasn't like Pep was wrong; the throbbing agony that coursed through him helped no one. "Second shelf on the right."

Pepper followed his directions, and he could hear her shuffling through his pill collection for the correct bottle. The entire time she was away, Tony kept his gaze locked on the floor, as if the carpet held the answers to the world's problems. Only when Pep gently shoved a glass of water into one hand and a few pills in the other did he rouse himself.

"Making yourself suffer won't help him," she repeated as he stared down at the little white tablets, hesitant to take them despite his own thoughts. Biting back the pain, he shoved the pills in his mouth and washed them down with a large swig of water. His shifting around renewed the flare in his shoulder, and Pepper took the glass back from him before his weakened, shaking limbs could accidentally send it to the floor.

Then she slipped into the space beside him, letting him lean into her as he waited for the medicine to kick in. It took far too long for his liking, and when the drugs finally did kick in he could still feel the slightest twinge in his shoulder when he moved. What's worse was that they did absolutely nothing to ease his mind.

"I'm worried about him," Tony whispered into the side of Pepper's neck, and she reached over to pull him closer.

"I know you are," she soothed, running her fingers through his unwashed hair. "But you can't keep doing this. It's only been five days. Give him time."

"That's the problem; it's already been five days, and there's still no sign of him." So much went wrong in just one morning, and Tony dreaded to think what could happen in the course of five days.

When he had woken up in the med bay of the Helicarrier, drugged to the gills with pain meds, he had been beyond confused. It took a long time for his morphine-floating thoughts to realign into some semblance of order, and even longer to remember what happened with Doom. But beyond that, there was nothing.

His confusion only grew when suddenly Rogers was in the room with him, looking both relieved and like someone had killed his puppy. Instantly Tony knew something was up, that something had gone wrong while he was unconscious, and dread blossomed in his chest.

"What's wrong?" Tony had asked, or at least tried to; his tongue felt leaden inside of his mouth, and all that came out was an unintelligible slur. Speech not working, he fought against the drug haze, uncoordinated limbs trying to propel him out of the bed. Before he could even get a leg free Rogers was there, pinning him back.

"Tony! Tony, stop it!" Captain America shouted, and Tony had no choice but to comply, his limbs far too weak. He sagged back into the bed, shoulder aching slightly beneath the cotton world of analgesics.

"What happened?" He asked again, and this time his question came out as actual words.

At first Rogers was hesitant to tell him, insisting that Tony shouldn't worry about Doom right now and instead concentrate on getting better, but Tony wouldn't have it. He threatened to go and ask someone else- not that he really thought he'd be able to walk very far at the moment –if Rogers wouldn't tell him; eventually the hero caved. He explained how the Doombots were faking being shut down, and that many of them survived the impact of hitting the ground. It wasn't until SHIELD was picking them up that they started moving again, killing a lot of agents who were unprepared for an attack. Then Tony was stabbed and...

"And?" Tony prodded when Rogers trailed off. "Obviously I didn't die, so what-" That's when Tony's apprehension skyrocketed. "Oh god, Loki. Something happened to Loki."

The god's absence suddenly became glaring. Loki never liked being very far from Tony, and the fact that Tony was in the Helicarrier would have made no difference. It wasn't just his ego speaking when he said that Loki would be wherever he was. That he wasn't meant that something was keeping him away.

Tony renewed his efforts to get out of the bed, this time far more desperate than before, and once again Rogers was forced to hold him down. "Stark!" The captain shouted over Tony's rising panic. "Loki wasn't hurt! He's okay!"

That only slowed Tony's struggling a little bit. "Then where is he? Why isn't he here?" And Rogers, always with his heart on his sleeve, guiltily looked away. Tony didn't marvel at the novelty of that particular expression on the Captain's face; he just wanted to know where his friend- and wasn't that word an understatement for the profound bond between them -was. "Steve, where is Loki?"

"I don't know," Rogers confessed. "No one does. He disappeared after you were no longer in critical condition." His guilt seemed to deepen. "I didn't realize what he was doing in time. I'm sorry, I should have stopped him."

Tony laughed, a harsh, panicked sound, and there was another curious pull in his shoulder- no, not curious. Doom stabbed him, didn't he? Nearly killed him too, it sounds like. "You couldn't have stopped him." But Tony wished he did, because- oh god, Loki was _missing_.

"I'm sorry," Rogers repeated anyway, like Loki teleporting away was his personal failure.

"And no one has seen him?" Tony asked, attempting to wrestle back his rising anxiety. Maybe it wasn't as bad as it sounded. Maybe Loki thought he was going to blank out and just went back to Malibu. "What about Jarvis? Does Jarvis know anything?" This time when Tony tried to sit up, Rogers let him.

Tony leaned back onto his pillows, wincing as whatever cocktail of drugs he was on started wearing off, and Rogers replied, "Jarvis says he has a message to you from Loki, but he won't let anyone else listen to it, not even Pepper. We had her check your house in California as well, but he wasn't there."

So Loki wasn't back at the house, but if there was a message... "I'm up now, Jarv," he addressed the room, knowing the AI would be listening in. "Let's hear it."

That was the first time Tony heard Loki's message, and it certainly wasn't the last. Over and over he had Jarvis play it, listening intently to the god's tremulous voice, but it never got him any closer to getting Loki back. If the god really did go to Asgard, then no matter what Tony did he was powerless to follow. SHIELD did have people looking for the god on Earth, but it was a futile effort; they couldn't find any sign of Loki.

Still, that didn't stop Tony from wanting to go out and look for him. Even if he had no chance of succeeding, it would make him feel a lot less useless than he did sitting around at home. However, the wound in his shoulder didn't allow for even that. He was actually supposed to still be in the infirmary, but he refused to suffer pitying glances any longer.

All the change in scenery ended up bringing him was even more stress, where no matter what he did he was constantly reminded of the god. All those mementos just made the fact that Loki wasn't there- could already be dead for all Tony knew -even more jarring.

"You just need to have faith in him. It'll be okay," Pepper reassured, resting her chin on the top of his head. "But in the meantime, you have to take care of yourself. You took care of him for a year. Now it's time to think about yourself for a change."

"It's not the same without him around," Tony tried to explain. There was no taking it easy, not when it felt like he was missing an essential piece of himself. Everything seemed so different, so hollow, without the Loki beside him. What the god had once filled- the emptiness inside of Tony that he hadn't even realized was there until Loki came crashing into his life –was now glaringly void.

Even if Tony wanted to relax, he couldn't; all he could do was try and hold the breaking pieces together until Loki came back to repair them.

"I know," Pepper replied, willing to be there for him until the hurt went away. "He'll come back soon. He never could stay away from you for long."

Tony hoped she was right, that Loki would return any moment.

He didn't.

-o-o-o-

He ran. He didn't take the time to curse his fate or dwell on the consequences he created; he just ran, never stopping. Even when the beating of his heart shook his body and his lungs were on fire inside of him- just like they had been in the void, empty and burning, where no matter how many times he tried to pull air into them there just wasn't enough –he did not stop. He went forwards and onwards, forevermore.

But no matter how far or fast Loki went, his every step was haunted by the pounding of hooves. Sometimes they would peter off, and for a few moments Loki would dare to hope that he could finally slow down, but the roar never failed to pick up again. There was no rest for the wicked.

Loki had no choice but to keep moving, pushing his body until every nerve screamed out. Fog rolled into his mind, banishing any thoughts that did slip through. The world narrowed down to only one objective: just run, run, run, so they wouldn't kill him.

This is what it was like to be hunted.

-o-o-o-

The turn of another week found Tony continuing to fall apart at the seams. Every day was worse than the one before it as his hope continued to dwindle. Loki wasn't back yet, if he ever would be.

Tony didn't want to be cliché, but that whole, "You don't know what you have until it's gone," saying worked pretty well in this circumstance. From the very beginning- when Loki was just a shadow of a person -it had been clear that the god would be around for a long time. Then as Loki began to recover, their lives melded together until it was no longer clear where one began and the other ended. They were simply 'Tony and Loki'. Now it was just 'Tony', hurt and confused, with only alcohol to make it better.

He threw back another glass of scotch, not caring that the pain medication they switched him to wasn't supposed to mixed with anything. In all honesty, he preferred it this way; it made it easier for his thoughts to coagulate, becoming so thick that nothing made sense anymore. That was all he wanted; if he couldn't fix anything by dwelling on his loss, he might as well not think at all.

As soon as Tony wasn't doped up on morphine, Fury had bitched and moaned for the engineer to figure out the whole Doombot problem. In the beginning, Tony really did try. Throwing himself into a job was always he best way to ignore the world, but Loki had been right when he said it was fifty-six percent his creation. Tony just did not have enough understanding of the magic portion to figure out where it went wrong. Beyond the obvious analysis of 'it didn't work', he needed Loki's help. Without the god, working on the Dragon Slayer was nothing more than a mess of nostalgia.

So Tony abandoned that project, and he reverted back to old habits with frightening ease. The bottle became his replacement friend, welcoming him with the familiar pound of a hangover that he just drank away. It was a vicious cycle, and no one was making any process in snapping him out of it short of locking up every adult beverage they could find. He just moved on to the next stash.

Pepper headed the 'don't let Tony self-destruct' committee, though Steve wasn't far beyond. Tony wasn't sure if it was a sense of honor or guilt that fueled the American Soldier, but either way good 'ol Steve had taken it upon himself to interfere with Tony's drinking. While Pepper was thankful for the help, unable to juggle babysitting with running Stark Industries, Tony just wanted them to leave him alone… Except for that was a lie; he had gotten use to always having a companion around. It just wasn't them he needed.

Finding his thoughts diverting back to a certain green-eyed mage, Tony poured himself another glass and downed it to cut that recollection off. He let his eyes wander to the horizon, soaking in the scenic overlook that he hadn't been able to appreciate for a long time.

Right after he had gotten home from the Helicarrier, he had wanted to yank all the curtains down. Like an angry woman who had just broken up with her sleazy boyfriend, he wanted everything of Loki's _gone_. But when he had the fabric fisted in quivering hands, he stopped. Taking down these curtains was supposed to be a special occasion, a sign that they were moving beyond a painful chapter in Loki's life, not an action done in a fit of anger.

He had forced himself to step away, satisfying himself with just glaring at them instead. When he tired of hating the immobile fabric, he took to imitating a teenage girl instead and retreated into his room. It was the only place in the house with unobscured windows, and he stared out at the mockingly clear sky.

In the year that Loki had lived with him, Tony barely spent any time in his bedroom. Between late nights in the lab and no longer bringing one night stands home, it had fallen into disuse. The room was relatively untouched by all things Loki, and that was the main reason he holed himself up in it. Now, Pepper struggled just to get him to take one step beyond the doorway.

For hours on end, Tony would just lay on his stomach, resting his aching shoulder on a pillow (they had taken him off the good stuff, and this new medication didn't work well enough). Whenever he began to feel too sober, he'd wash down the blue scenery with whatever he could get his hands on. The only times he managed to rouse himself from his stupor would be to grab another drink or take a much needed trip to the bathroom. Then he'd trudge right back to resume his wallowing.

That was Pepper's word for it, by the way. 'Wallowing.' Tony preferred to call it a scenic binge, but instead of being able to admire the shoreline (which he had seen so many times now there wasn't really much to admire), his mind just kept going back to how much he feared for Loki's safety. More than that, Tony just truly missed the god's presence. He wasn't the only one, either.

Coro swatted at his ear, yowling miserably. His claws dug into the bandage covering Tony's wound, inciting flickers of pain. When the cat continued to aggravate the injury, Tony sluggishly rolled onto his back to force the cat off of him. He scowled over at the furball, which just signaled to Coro that Tony was actually paying attention to him. He meowed louder, a feat Tony hadn't thought was possible, and batted at the hand with the liquor bottle.

"Yeah, I know. I miss him too, buddy," Tony told the little rugrat, setting down his drink to scratch the top of the cat's head. Coro didn't shy away from his touch, but he didn't nuzzle Tony's hand either, not like he did with Loki. After a few minutes of drunken petting, the cat finally decided that Tony made a poor replacement for the god and mewed pitifully.

Coro stared up at Tony with wide hazel eyes before slipping out from under his hand and hopping off the bed. With one last glance back at Tony, like suddenly the engineer would turn into who the cat really wanted, he wandered from the room. Tony bet Coro was going to go mope on Loki's favorite chair... Damn, everyone in this house was a pining mess.

"Sir, Steve Rogers is requesting permission to enter the premises," Jarvis announced, pulling Tony out of his drug and alcohol induced daze. "Would you like me to let him in this time?"

"Didn't you let him in after I said no last time?" Tony asked grouchily, flipping back over onto his stomach so is shoulder wasn't digging into the mattress. Even that slight pressure had been torment, and it was a long time before he could take another dose... Unless he decided to just ignore the instructions on the battle, as he had been doing. Which would explain why they were quick to take the morphine away from him; not that he would have allowed himself to become addicted to the drug. They were just overreacting like always; he could handle himself.

(He didn't want to dwell on just how lost he felt, or how he wasn't sure he'd be able to move on if Loki never came back. Almost two weeks without the god and Tony's life had turned into a dull, dark place. He couldn't spend the rest of his life with nothing but somber musings to remind him of the person who had made life beautiful.)

"My apologies. He had the override code." The AI didn't sound sorry at all. Jarvis was conspiring to pull Tony out of his funk like everyone else.

"Whatever. I don't see why you bother asking me when you're going to let him in anyway." The prove his point, Tony could faintly hear the front door opening without his permission. "Traitor," he said, but his words lacked any real bite. If Tony honestly wanted them out, he would have just gone in and changed Jarvis's code. However, after a notable incident involving alcohol poisoning and a hooker, Pepper had made him promise to always keep an override just in case something bad happened to him.

Steve's voice drifted in through Tony's open door, a faint, "Oh, hey there Coro. No, I'm sorry, I didn't bring you any treats this time. Has Tony fed you today?" No, Tony actually hadn't. He meant to- it was one of Loki's directions, after all – but he had forgotten. There was a reason he didn't keep pets; he had a hard enough time taking care of himself. "Let's fix that, why don't we?" At least he had Steve, who was probably using his only free time to check on Tony, to feed Loki's cat- because Tony was that much of a failure.

Despite not stopping Jarvis from letting Steve in, Tony didn't want to talk to him right now; his glass was empty, and his arm was throbbing in pace with his heartbeat. But there were footsteps approaching his room, and Tony had nowhere to run to. So he stayed put, resolutely staring out the window and not looking up when he heard Steve stop outside of his door.

Habitually trying to drink away the stress, Tony brought the empty bottle to his lips. He didn't want to see what emotions were portrayed all over Steve's face. Pity was probably one of them. Remorse too, like there was anything the Captain could of done to stop Loki from being a reckless moron.

"He's going to be angry with you when he comes back and sees that you've starved his cat," Steve said by way of greeting, walking farther into the room and stopping by the bed. Tony could see the hero's battle scuffed armor peripherally, and he distantly wondered how many people Doom managed to kill today. "It'll hurt him, seeing the thing he loves wasting away in his absence," Steve continued, and Tony knew they weren't talking about the cat anymore.

"Then he shouldn't have left in the first place," Tony retorted, rolling the glass in his hands and wishing it was full again.

"But he did, and you can't change that." Tony grimaced; it was the truth, and it stung.

Steve moved to sit down beside Tony, and the engineer finally rolled over to actually look at the other man. He stared right back, face like an open book, but there wasn't pity in those eyes; it was compassion and confidence that things would be okay again. Tony wished he could share that confidence.

"I'm not going to let you drown in self-pity, Tony. He's going to come back, and he's going to need you to be strong for him."

Tony huffed and tore his gaze back to the window and the dazzling blue. "I don't know. Loki made it pretty clear that he didn't think he needed me anymore. Not when he couldn't even wait for me to wake up. I could have helped him. We could have done this together." And that was one of the things that hurt Tony the most: that Loki didn't wait to ask for his help. Did Loki not trust him enough, or did he just not think Tony was capable?

"That's a stupid thing to say," Steve said bluntly, startling Tony from his thoughts to look back up at him. "You didn't see him that day, Tony."

That didn't matter; Tony's been with Loki more than enough to understand what the god thought. He opened his mouth to say as much, but he was cut off. "No. I don't want you thinking that he doesn't care about you, or whatever other dumb stuff you have going on in that head of yours. Because for all that you call yourself a genius, you are really damn thick sometimes."

It was only on rare occasions that Steve actually swore, and Tony stared at the man with his mouth hanging open, half in shock and half in protest. And Steve wasn't done, either. "You didn't see what I saw. That man _loves_ you, Tony. When Doom attacked you, he was there before anyone else even realized what happened. And do you know what he did then? He fell with you, all the way to the ground."

Something twisted in Tony's gut. "What do you mean?" He asked apprehensively. No one had told him this before. Sure, he knew that it was Loki who saved his life, but this? Loki actually fell from the sky with him? No one mentioned that. They told him Loki was fine, but had he actually gotten hurt for Tony's sake?

"I mean exactly what I said. I don't know how durable an Asgardian,"- Jotun, Tony's mind automatically corrected, not that the specifics really mattered to him - "is, but I don't think hitting the pavement that fast is pleasant for anyone. And I don't think he would have done that for anyone, either."

"You said he wasn't hurt," Tony accused, the horrifying image of a broken Loki popping into his mind. Just like when he fell into Tony's life, covered in blood and completely wrecked. That Loki would purposely do that for him, because Tony hadn't been paying attention...

"He healed." Steve said, like that made it right in any way.

"That doesn't-" Tony began, but again he was kept from continuing.

"Hey," Steve barked, leaning in towards Tony. "I'm not telling you this so you can beat yourself up over it. I'm telling you because you need to realize that he cares about you more than anything, even his own safety. He was an absolute wreck when he thought you were going to die. You mean everything to him, and he would give anything for you, so don't go thinking that he left because he thought you were inadequate or something. I guarantee you whatever he's off doing he's doing it for you. Because to him, you are worth risking his life over."

It took Tony a moment to respond to that, humbled by the implications of everything Steve said. Never before has Tony been such a crucial part of someone's life, not to such a frightening degree. It was both a heavy burden and heartening to know he meant that much to someone- to Loki.

Still, that didn't change the fact that Loki had left, and Tony may never see him again. "He should have taken me with, or at least talked with me first."

"Probably," Steve agreed, but didn't say anything more.

Silence fell over them for a few minutes; Tony tried to put himself in Loki's mindset when the god chose to go back to a place he hated, and Steve...was probably thinking about something equally as deep. But then the Captain disrupted to moment, standing up and giving Tony a searching look.

"I need to go. We've been having some problems with Doom." Problems that Tony couldn't help with, what with his device rendered useless and his suit too painful to put on. "Just think about what I said, alright? And stop moping around. You want to not feel useless? Then do something about it."

And just as quickly as he arrived the soldier was out the door again, leaving Tony alone with the sky and his depleted glass. After a moment of gazing at the crashing sea he sighed, finally pulling himself into a sitting position and setting the glass on the bedside table. Steve was right. Maybe he couldn't help this time, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let there be a next time.

"Jarvis? Get the lab ready for me. We're making ourselves a trans-dimensional tracking device."

-o-o-o-

Back pressed harshly into stone, he hid. Heart in his throat, he tried futilely to sink into surroundings and disappear. They were coming closer, and all that stood between Loki and capture was a poorly concealed cave entrance.

'They're going to find me,' he thought, petrified. 'I should have kept moving. If I stay here, they'll find me.'

Yet Loki didn't have a choice but to stop; his entire body shook and trembled, on the verge of collapse. The craggy wall behind him took more of his weight than his own legs did, and he sure that if he pulled away he wouldn't make it nine steps before coming crashing down.

There was the snapping of a branch to the right, and Loki's froze; they were close. Labored breaths locked up inside his chest, he listened in dread to the sounds outside the small cavern. Without harsh pants obscuring his hearing, the distant tread of feet and shouting voices became obvious to him. There were only three soldiers from the sound of it, but in his exhaustion three was more than enough. Their voices grew louder as they got closer to his poor hiding spot.

"-went this way. He can't have gotten far."

"Unless he teleported away. Are we still within the barrier?"

"Aye. That cowardly mage isn't going to slip away with his magic tricks this time."

"Except he's at most only a few miles from the edge. Once he's out, we won't have any chance of retrieving the grimoire."

"Then you lads should stop bickering and find him."

"Yes, sir!"

The voices split up, drawing closer and closer. Terrified, Loki didn't move a single muscle, not even to breathe, lest they heard him. Even when his lungs began to ache, he did not draw in a breath. He spent seven years without oxygen; he could manage a few minutes.

Except for as footsteps circled his position, drawing close only to fade away, he felt a different hunter closing in on him. This one was just as- if not more -dangerous, because it made no difference if he ran or hid; he could never outmatch it.

(There was no light anywhere; the darkness was so thick it was like oil, clinging to him and clogging his senses.)

Loki tried to fight past the twisted memories and push away the phantom sensations. He wasn't in the void; there was light. He could see; he could hear; he wasn't trapped.

But he was trapped, just not between Yggdrasil. Someone was searching just outside of the small cave, feet brushing against the undergrowth that hid Loki from view. They were close enough that the smallest twitch from Loki would forfeit his cover and his life.

(No matter how much he tried to warp out of there, to get out of the darkness, it would not release him from its greedy clutches. It tortured him, filling his lungs with nothing yet denying him death. Surrounded by **black**, he wanted to die.)

Loki's craved the familiar thrum of his magic- wanted it to take him far, far away from here -but it was absent. No matter how many times he tried to call it to him, there was no response. Asgard was on lock-down, and he was a fish caught in the net. With a hunter above him, ready to spear him if he surfaced, and a shark caught in the net with him, there was nowhere to run.

(He was being dragged down, farther and farther into nothingness. Dragged to the bottom, where light was just an ardent memory. Embraced in emptiness, Loki and the void became one.)

Distantly Loki heard someone call, "He's not here, let's move on," but that just became background noise. As footsteps vanished into the distance, Loki's mind vanished as well. His body hit the floor with a resounding thud, glassy eyes staring across the ground but seeing nothing.

-o-o-o-

As the third week without Loki unfolded, Tony found himself reverting back to his healthier- though not perfect -coping mechanism. He returned to spending all day in his lab, always deeply absorbed with one project or another. Pepper wasn't thrilled, but everyone on Team 'Coddle Stark' was in agreement that it was a better alternative than him wasting away on his bed with enough alcohol in his system to send a college student to the hospital. Tony didn't particularly care one way or another; he just wanted the god to come back home.

However, day after day went by and there was no sign of Loki; Tony drowned himself in technology, even if a large part of him would have preferred to drink his sorrows away. Working in the lab was just like the old days, which should have been comforting but wasn't. He kept saying stuff like, "Loki, what do you think about this?" or "Hey Sparkles, pass me the blow torch." only to have the responding silence jolt him back to reality.

It also meant that Dum-E- wonderful but obtuse AI that he was -went back to his usual shenanigans without the god there to distract him.

"Dum-E, what are you doing over there?" Tony asked warningly as the robot poked around the equipment shelves, whirring as he scootched around boxes of tools. The shelving unit shook slightly as Dum-E accidentally bumped against the frame, sticking his arm into a small gap between containers. "Dum-E, get back over here."

The robot perked slightly at the command, instantly turning his head to look at Tony while it was still caught between items. "No, wait-" Tony began, but he was too late. The robot's hand caught on a large toolbox, and this time instead of just wobbling the whole shelf began to totter. "Dum-E!" Tony shouted as the robot gave a startled squeak and rolled backwards, but the damage was already done. After another precarious tilt, the shelf lost its battle against gravity; it came falling down on the spot where the older AI had just been, sending scraps of metal and gadgets all over the floor.

When the clatter died down, Tony's mutter of, "It's just a shelf. He's done worse, you can't donate him because of a shelf," could be heard. Dum-E just 'vrrr'-ed at the mess he made, then returned to poking around in the pile. At the sight Tony's annoyance fled, that one animating emotion fading back into the constant resignation and sorrow.

"He's not going to show up just because you keep searching for him." Tony informed the robot, but Dum-E just chirped at him before returning to rooting through the spilled boxes. The engineer sighed, giving up on fixing the AI's misconception. "Whatever, just clean your mess up while you're at it."

Tony returned to tinkering with the wires of a Stark phone- what would be Loki's phone, when the god finally got his stupid, self-sacrificing ass back home -and tried to ignore Dum-E's sad quest. Apparently Loki had taken to playing games with the AI when Tony wasn't home; the most common game they played happened to be hide-and-seek, where Loki turned into a skinny black rat and hid inside the lab for the robot to find. When Jarvis had shown Tony the footage to explain Dum-E's strange behavior, the man had smiled fondly at the screen the whole time, even if it was bittersweet. But now Dum-E kept trying to find the god, even though he wasn't there.

'But he will be soon,' Tony forced himself to think. 'He's trying to get back here, and I just need to trust in him.'

Until then, he busied himself with making Loki the most comprehensive phone in the history of all mobile devices. Tony's favorite feature was the state of the art tracking device; it wasn't quite trans-dimensional like he wanted, but it was pretty damn close. And while sure, there were dozens of other things that were more important to work on, he wanted to keep to his pledge of not working on projects when Loki wasn't there. As for his personal projects... well, he was finding it hard to concentrate right now, with his thoughts constantly going back to one thing.

"I hope you're safe, wherever you are," Tony said to the phone, like it could carry his message to Loki across realms. "And that you're on your way home. I miss you, you idiot."

-o-o-o-

Loki didn't know how much time had passed before his mind reset itself. One moment he had been on the verge of being found, and the next he was lying stiffly on the ground, rocks digging into his sore muscles. A groan escaped his lips before he remembered the need for silence, but when he did realize his error he killed the sound, tensing in anticipation.

Luckily it didn't seem like anyone was still in the area, and when he stretched his sense all he could hear was the natural sounds of the forest. He let out his held breath and finally allowed himself to move.

Lifting himself up from the rocky ground was far harder than it should have been, and Loki winced at every shift of his muscles. He wasn't sure exactly how long he had been running- almost a fortnight, he had to guess -or how long he had been lying on the ground, but it was obvious that his body had reached its limit. There were only a few miles left until he could escape- access his magic and teleport far away from Asgard -but that small distance felt insurmountable.

However, the thought of reuniting with Tony spurred Loki onwards, and he forced resisting limbs into action. He couldn't stop now, not after having come so far. Already he had spent too long here, and Tony probably feared the worst.

(Loki didn't want to stop and think about how things almost were 'the worst'. He might not be dead yet, but the repercussions of his actions would follow him beyond this realm. That in getting seen, Loki practically signed his death warrant. If he survived these last few miles- and even that was a major _if_ -then Odin would undoubtedly send someone after him. He had stolen two ancient relics, after all. That alone was enough to earn him an execution, even without taking into consideration all of his other crimes. Right now, he was just a dead man walking.)

Pushing aside his fears in favor of thinking about returning home, Loki climbed out from the cave. He checked his surroundings again before completely stepping out into the open, the warmth of the sun soaking into his fatigued body. Standing amidst the towering trees, Loki took a moment to let the beauty of his old home wash over him.

He had missed this; not just Asgard, but being able to appreciate the world around him without feeling overwhelmed. For months after he left the void this warmth would have felt akin to fire on his skin, and the light had been like venom dripping into his eyes. Now he could stand under the open sky without pain, and the stirrings of his mind were nothing more than faint whispers.

It was peaceful, and he wished he could have come here under different circumstances, but he no longer belonged in this realm. There was one last stretch between him and freedom, and delaying would only give his hunters more time to organize. It was time for him to leave and hopefully never come back.

Moving quickly but quietly- wishing not for the first time that, if nothing else, he at least retained the ability to shapeshift into something faster -he closed the space between himself and the boundary of the anti-magic field. While he kept his ears open, there were no signs of his pursuers anywhere nearby. It was just him and the chattering of the forest.

For miles he ran on aching legs, and while each step was a step too many, he felt his heart lighten anyway. He was almost home.

Then the chirping of birds and rustle of deer faded, leaving an oppressive silence behind. Loki slowed his mad dash, caution outweighing his desire to get home as quickly as possible. Creeping around low-hanging branches, he listened for the soldiers that had to be close by. The only question was whether or not they were blocking his path, or if they were just patrolling around the area.

Loki got his answer when the wind carried with it voices and the clatter of swords, coming from the very direction he was heading. Undeterred, he began moving parallel to where he assumed the people to be in an effort to find a way around them. He only became worried when new voices kept replacing the ones he walked past, only a small gap in between each group. Was he surrounded?

Unable to tell from his position, Loki angled back towards the boundary to take a closer look. He watched his every move closely, taking precautions to not make a single sound. Crouching low to the ground, he darted between tangles of trees, stepping softly in moss and dirt.

As the voices grew louder so did Loki's apprehension, but it was paramount he knew what he was dealing with. There was a cowardly piece of Loki that resisted, telling him to go the other direction and stay far, far away from any Asgardian, but the determined part of his mind told him it was now or never; he went towards the soldiers instead of away.

Distant murmurs became actual words the closer Loki got, doing nothing to quell his distress. They were talking about him, and how he would be punished when they captured him. He had no way to escape, they said, with sentries posted around the entire area. That finally they'd put an end to his thievery.

What really rattled Loki, however, was the passing mention of Thor. The context seemed off, because one of the soldiers stated that Thor would not allow Loki to be executed. Why did it matter that Thor opposed- _if _Thor opposed? His not-brother had always obeyed Odin in the end; it was Odin's ruling that mattered. Of course, Loki would have flinched no matter what they said about Thor; he could not bear to think about him.

Then Loki got close enough to see the four soldiers he was listening in on, peering through the brush to see their gleaming swords and dull leathers. They were standing close together while they chatted, eyes occasionally diverting to do a cursory sweep of their surroundings. None of their faces were familiar, and for that Loki was grateful. Sneaking by would be hard enough without unwelcomed memories fogging his mind.

Watching the quad that stood between him and freedom, all of Loki's training in strategy came to the surface. He analyzed each soldier, scoping out any weaknesses in their form. To his displeasure, there weren't a lot of weak points for him to exploit. Four against one simply was not good odds, especially when they were fully armed and he was minimally equipped for stealth purposes. That had been fine for breaking into the palace and fleeing through the forest, but if it came to hand to hand combat he was 'screwed', as Tony would say.

Odds not in Loki's favor, he pulled back away from the sentries. While he doubted they would have left such a loophole, there may be a way to slip between groups. He would have a better chance of succeeding if that was the case.

Keeping the first group in the corner of his eye, Loki began to move towards where he could hear another one. This close to the Asgardians, he was glad that their boisterous conversation covered up the soft sounds of his passing. They didn't hear him as he drifted by, going far enough to catch a glimpse of the next group over.

Loki cursed mentally when he saw how little space was actually between posts. It was a thousand feet at most; a distance easily crossed by troops far more rested than Loki was. Deciding that the risk of getting noticed by two groups simultaneously was too great, Loki edged back towards the noisy four. They would be easier to get past than the other group, but just barely. With how terrible Loki's chance of success was, he'd take any advantage he could get.

'This is it,' he thought. 'If I can just get past them, I can go home. Tony is waiting.'

Tucking himself into the densest area of brush, he slipped four daggers out of his sleeved and put two in each hand. While he hoped to get through without detection, he had no delusions that that'd actually work. He learned his lesson earlier, when his carelessness prompted this entire mess. If it came down to fighting for his life, he would do anything to get away.

Now armed, Loki began to slink forwards, hugging the bases of trees and darting across the areas with less coverage. The protective distance he had kept from the four dwindled rapidly until he was almost level with their position. Then the foliage began to thin out, and he came to a stop about a few hundred feet to the right of the sentries.

Beyond where he was hiding, the forest briefly fell away into a small clearing. Once he stepped into the open, it would become a race to see if he could get to the edge of the boundary before someone killed him. He would have a few seconds head start, and that would have to be enough.

Gripping his daggers tighter, Loki steeled himself for the mad dash that was about to follow. 'I'm sorry, Tony,' he thought one last time. 'I might not make it back home to you.' Then he pushed those doubts from his mind, focusing on the task set before him. It was show time.

Loki waited until the group was in the throes of laughter after another tasteless joke before he made his move; he lunged forwards, sprinting as quickly as his body would let him- faster than it would let him, letting adrenaline push him beyond his limits. Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion.

A guard's laughter suddenly cut off as he caught sight of the fleeing mage, a battle cry immediately coming to his lips. The other guards were quick to take up the caveat, spurring Loki to go even faster.

"There he is! Don't let him get away!"

Pounding footsteps accentuated his lighter ones, and the shouting spread as other posts responded to the uproar. Loki didn't bother figuring out how many soldiers were following him; he just kept putting one foot in front of the other, desperate to reach the end of the boundary before they caught him. There was only another mile left.

But after spending so long on the run, Loki just couldn't get his muscles to move fast enough. It took less than a minute for the first group to draw even with him, crashing through the undergrowth on either side. He tried to keep track of each of them, but he did not have that kind of attention to spare. The daggers rested heavily in his hands, yet he did not throw them; doing so would only lose him precious time.

It was one of the soldiers that ended up making the first move, veering into Loki's path. A blade swung viciously towards the trickster, and there wasn't enough space for him to completely evade. Tempered metal slit through the flesh of his arm, reaching down towards the bone.

Loki grimaced at the sudden inferno, but he fought to keep moving. There was no time to stop lest he find himself surrounded. Thick blood oozed to the ground as he ran, his cells prevented from regenerating. He was lucky the blade didn't go deeper, or he very well could have lost his arm.

Of course, he'd lose more than an arm if he didn't hurry it up. There were still the three other soldiers closing in, and the fourth one was regaining lost ground.

'Come on,' Loki thought frantically. 'Where's the boundary? It has to be close.' If it wasn't and he miscalculated, then he was surely as good as dead.

Another blade angled for Loki's heart, but this time he was able to avoid it by lunging to the side. However, that brought him too close to the soldier on his right, and he had to duck under a third blade, which narrowly missed his head. As the soldiers beared down on him, Loki had less and less space to maneuver; he was only a few feet from the sharp edge of a blade at any moment, and that leeway was decreasing.

Still, he didn't turn around to fight back. Attacking would disrupt his momentum, and other soldiers were not far behind. All he had to do was keep dodging and he'd be okay.

That option was taken from him, however, as one of the men changed tactics and instead of slicing at Loki they leapt at his back. The trickster did not have the space to dodge, and five hundred pounds of Asgardian slammed into his shoulder.

Knocked off balance, Loki spun to the ground and rolled across the dirt, smashing his head against the base of a tree. Disorientated from the blow, he struggled to scramble back on to his feet. Before he could rise a sword swung at his face, and Loki parried desperately with his dagger. The momentum of the blow forced him onto his back again, the air leaving his lungs in a heavy whoosh.

This time when glinting metal came at him he wasn't fast enough to stop it, and only the desperate tilt of his head saved him from being beheaded. His cheek burned as the blade caught his face, and Loki had to abandon his plan to run without fighting.

Before the guard could recover from his wide swing, Loki leapt forwards to return the blow. He flung his dagger with fatal accuracy, and it embedded itself hilt-deep into the other man's throat. As the sword dropped from slack fingers Loki was already in motion. He kicked the dead man out of his way, hastening to regain his own footing. The other three soldiers cried out in outrage, and Loki had to parry another blade aiming to take his head clean off. Lashing out like a caged beast, he was only able to nick the sentry before he was forced backwards.

Behind his current attackers more Asgardians drew close, their weapons drawn and expressions merciless. Loki cursed, stumbling back a few steps before spinning on his heel and hightailing it once more. Any advantage he once had was now nonexistent.

'Come on, come on,' he chanted with every step that didn't take him outside of the field. He only had one chance of survival- the very magic Asgard hated him for -but it remained dead inside of him. The boundary had to be close, and if he could just step past it his magic would rekindle. If not...

Something whistled past Loki's ear, but he ignored it in his frantic escape; he just had to get a few feet farther. A few feet, then he could teleport away.

But then someone shoved into him again, and he tumbled forwards, nearly pitting himself upon his own blades. Loki smacked hard against the ground, and when he attempted to get back up his muscles screamed out in protest; they trembled and collapsed under his weight. Loki's body had finally reached its limit; he couldn't keep moving forwards.

He wasn't the only one to realize that, and instead of landing a killing blow, or at least maiming him enough that he couldn't fight back, the soldiers chose to draw their confrontation out and make him suffer.

"What, the little wizard isn't strong enough to fight with the real warriors?"

Loki snarled back in response, trying to get to his feet again to prove them wrong. Just as he was got to his knees a harsh kick sent him sprawling, and he gasped helplessly upon the earth. The man who kicked him laughed savagely, and so did the other soldiers that finally caught up to them.

Completely outnumbered, Loki stared at the newcomers with dread. Even if he were at the top of his game, magic and all, this was a battle he wouldn't make through alive.

Face twisted in a vindictive grin, the soldier who was leading the show said, "I'll make you pay for killing Gunther. I'm going to make sure you never get up again, then I'll drag your thieving ass back to the palace so your dearest brother can dispose of you."

Though Loki had resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't win, the mention of Thor sparked him into a last ditch effort. He threw a dagger at the guard, but it was knocked aside as if it was nothing more than a fly. Desperate, he lifted his other arm to try again; another swift blow to his ribs sent him flying.

Unable to stop the pained moan that slipped from his lungs, Loki let his daggers fall from limp fingers. So this was it: he got right to the end, but he wouldn't make it. As the enraged friend of the slain Gunther came for him again, Loki accepted that he was going to die here. He had wanted give living another try, but if this was it then so be it. He just wished that he got to tell Tony goodbye.

But apparently the fates were for once on Loki's side, and as an even harder kick collided with Loki's stomach, launching him through the air and into a tree, his entire body felt like it had been electrocuted. From his chest outward his limbs began to tingle, like there was lightening coursing in his blood. It took a moment for Loki to realize what happened, and when he did he couldn't stop the triumphant grin that spread across his face.

He was outside the barrier.

For a moment the soldiers looked confused at Loki's sudden change in demeanor, but then their eyes widened as they realized their mistake. The one closest to him, the fool that had actually made Loki's escape possible, cursed and lunged for the trickster, but Loki was already glowing a brilliant green. He laughed, exultant, as his magic carried him away.

Loki was still laughing when he reappeared far, far away from those who pursued him, on the very edge of the realm. Each elated chuckle made his chest ache, but he didn't care. He was free.

It took a few minutes for his laughter to die down, and a few more after that before Loki pulled himself to his feet. He swayed dangerously, but he managed to unsteadily walk forwards. He wouldn't be able to go far, but it was enough to get him to where the the folds of Asgard grew thin.

"It's time to go back home," Loki said softly, then he tore into the fabric of the realm. It yielded to his magic, opening up to reveal the path between realms. Loki stepped off of Asgard and into the portal, never looking back.

When he teleported into the living room of the Malibu house, Loki could barely feel his body underneath the deep thrum of exhaustion. He staggered as the adrenaline that had kept him going finally died. The ground bucked under his feet, and Loki almost succumbed to the darkness; then he caught sight of Tony, passed out on the couch, and his joy temporarily pushed that weariness away.

He was home.

"Sir, Loki is-" Jarvis began, rousing Tony out of his light stupor.

"I'll handle this, Jarvis." Loki interrupted the AI, and at the sound of his voice Tony shot up from the couch. His eyes darted around the room, disbelieving, and then the man caught sight of Loki, covered in blood and dirt and looking like nine kinds of hell.

"Holy shit..." Tony swore, staring at the god like he wasn't sure Loki was actually there.

Loki couldn't help but smile at Tony, so relieved that he was okay; Tony looked so much better than when Loki had left. "I told you I'd be back," he said, bringing Tony out of his slack-jawed staring.

"You shouldn't have left in the first place," Tony replied automatically, seeming torn between 'oh thank god you're okay' and 'you fucking imbecile'. Concern eventually won out when Tony finally seemed to realize just how wasted the god was, with fresh blood still trailing down his arm. "You're bleeding. Why are you bleeding?"

Truthfully, Loki had forgotten about the bone-deep gouge. Sure, the sword wound hurt terribly, but so did the rest of him. "It's fine. I'll fix it later," he said absently, the world starting to be overcome by black. Not the type from the void, but obnoxious little dots were overtaking his vision. Beneath his skin, his muscles liquified.

"Fine? Loki, nothing about that is fine! I thought you healed automatically!" Tony shouted, moving the grab Loki's arm and inspect the cut. "Shit, this goes down to the bone. What the hell were you thinking, going out on your own like that?" And there was the anger, so quick to rise.

Loki wanted to placate Tony, to tell the man that everything as okay now, but the darkness obscuring his vision also clouded his mind. His tongue was lead inside of his mouth, not smooth silver, and his thoughts crumbled before they could fully form. Only Tony's face was still visible, and even that was on the verge of being consumed by black.

"Are you even listening to me? Loki! ...Loki? Hey dude, when was the last time you slept?" The god tried to reply, but then Tony disappeared along with Loki's muscles. He began careening to the floor, vaguely feeling Tony's arms around him; the man tried to keep him upright as he slipped into unconsciousness.

"Loki!"

-o-o-o-

When Loki awoke, sensation drifted back to him slowly. First he noticed the lingering ache in his limbs, and then the weight on his chest. A quiet moan passed from his lips as he forced his eyes open, feeling like he could sleep for a year and still not be satiated.

A meow followed his vocalization, and Loki moved his gaze down to see Choronzon staring up at him with wide eyes. The cat meowed again and rose to its feet, stepping across Loki's chest to nuzzle his face. When Coro's brushed against his cheek, Loki was momentarily confused when he felt the rough scratch of a bandage instead of the cat's soft fur. He reached up- muscles protesting but not screaming out in agony -and felt the thick padding that covered his cheek.

Right, he had gotten cut on the face. It felt strange for him to have a lasting injury after spending so long on Midgard, where everything was easy to heal from. Sadly, Asgard complicated matters. He'd need a spell to counteract the affects of the blade.

A spell which he could use now. Loki reached out with his magic to feel the books that he had sequestered away. Not only did he have his own spellbooks, which were impressive in their own right, but now he had the most valuable grimoire in all of Asgard. Magic would be his to control once again.

He delayed exploring ancient pages, however, as he heard Jarvis speaking to Tony on the other side of the house. "Sir, Loki has regained consciousness. I suggest you go talk to him instead of pacing a groove into the floor."

Loki nudged the purring cat off of his chest and sat back up against the headboard as Tony's footsteps changed directions. The god was still tired, and while he wanted to be with Tony- always wanted to be with Tony -he wasn't looking forwards to being yelled at. He only did what he had to do.

True to Loki's expectations, when Tony came into the room he looked pissed. Relieved, but still pissed.

"You're an absolute idiot, you know that? Just what was so important that you had to go risk your life for? Huh?" The man said by way of greeting, skipping over the niceties. Loki tried to not let Tony's anger bother him; he knew this was going to be the reaction he got, and that hadn't stopped him. A living, angry Tony was better than a dead one.

"I needed my spell books," Loki replied, only telling half of the truth. He reached his magic out again, relishing in the apples presence amongst his other possessions. His hand idly pet Choronzon as the cat started pawing at him.

Tony didn't look impressed. "Spell books? All of this for just a couple of books? Loki, there has to be better ways to try and fix your magic."

"There's not. I tried, and nothing worked." Loki said, not matching the man's bitterness. In fact, while Tony was upset by what Loki did, the god just felt like a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Now he could finally help Tony. What was wrong about that?

(Besides the fact that Asgard knew he was alive again, and he was a wanted criminal. But he didn't want to spoil his success with that. Not yet.)

"Then you should of asked me. I could have helped," Tony insisted, though his anger was cooling slightly. The man just seemed weary about the whole situation, like he too spent days running for his life. "I don't want you to get hurt, especially not somewhere I can't get to you." Tony's eyes were drawn to the bandage on Loki's arm, and the man's hand unconsciously went to where his own wound was. "I stitched that up, but the way. It was still bleeding after you passed out. Why aren't you healing automatically?"

Loki shrugged, wincing slightly at the action. His reaction didn't go unnoticed, and it just undermined what the god said next. "My healing is fine. It was the sword that's causing the delay. Weapons do no good if the wounds heal back immediately afterward, so most blades in Asgard are enchanted to prevent healing. I'll fix it later."

"With your new toys, no doubt," Tony growled, but his eyes betrayed his relief. That didn't mean the man wasn't disconcerted by the god's actions, and Loki knew he wouldn't get forgiveness right away, not totally. Tony couldn't hate Loki, but that didn't mean the god got a free pass.

But there was no going back, and even if Loki could he didn't want to. It was all for Tony- so Tony would never die, so Loki wouldn't have to be alone.

"I missed you," Loki blurted.

Tony opened his mouth to reply, but then he paused, expression darkening. For a moment Loki feared he wouldn't say something back. But then he shook his head slightly, giving Loki a weak smile. "I missed you too, princess."

Loki returned that sad smile, hating the wall he had put between them. 'Everything will be okay,' he told himself. Soon Tony would understand Loki's actions, and he would be forgiven; things could go back to how they had been. 'And then Tony will stay with me forever.'

Whether he wants to or not.

* * *

Note: As many of you know, this annoying little thing called school is starting up again. Because of that, I will have to switch to updating every two weeks. There just are not enough hours in my day to go to school, work, and write this behemoth. So yeah... It sucks, but weekly updates of the 10k word variety just aren't going to happen when I can't spend all day typing.


	12. Chapter 12

"_In ancient Rome there was a pawn,  
Who followed along and watched it fall.  
He cast a stone, he felt secure,  
He felt that he would never be heard._

_You're given a voice,_  
_'You don't want it,'_  
_Seems to be the rule of thumb.  
Don't be tricked by what you see,  
You've got two ways to go._"

-o-o-o-

His hands were like stone, not trembling as he lined the pieces up. He crossed his eyes, trying to guide the small wire into the microchip. It was almost in place; just a bit farther…

There was a rattling bang from upstairs, startling Tony; his hands slipped, and the wire yanked out. "Damn it…" He muttered, staring in dismay at the ruined pieces. Huffing, he chucked them behind him for Dum-E to clean up. Another shudder racked the house, and Tony sighed heavily, lowering his head into his hands. "Jarvis," he spoke, voice muffled, "What is Loki doing up there?"

"The same thing he was doing when you asked twenty minutes ago, sir. Is there a problem?"

"Besides the fact that he's creating earthquakes in my house?" The ceiling creaked ominously. "No, not at all," Tony lied, trying to bury his face farther into his palms. Honestly, it wasn't Loki's renewed love of destructive magic that was bothering him. A few tremors here and there was the least of Tony's problems. Hell, if he wasn't having such a hard time focusing he'd be right there with the god, blowing stuff up in the name of discovery.

No, that wasn't the problem at all. The problem was that Loki was a reckless, selfish idiot, and even though he was upstairs Tony couldn't help but be scared. He didn't want Loki to go away again, and he worried that having magic would only bolster Loki's impulsive tendencies.

"You'll tell me if he starts doing anything else?"

"Of course, sir, but may I once again inform you that you are being ridiculous. There is sufficient evidence suggesting that Loki won't leave anytime soon. You are being overprotective." Jarvis stated, but Tony disagreed.

"You say that now," he muttered, lifting his head from his hands just to drop his forehead to the table. The cool metal did nothing to ease his mounting headache.

When Loki was gone, and Tony didn't know if he was alive or not, he thought that everything would be okay once the god returned. Never in those weeks did Tony actually consider that having the god back would be nearly as stressful. Every time Loki was out of sight- for the hours in which the god holed himself up in his room to obsess over those damn books -Tony couldn't help the trill of fear inside him. 'Loki's gone,' his mind would say. 'He's going to leave and you can't stop him.'

No matter how foolish that line of thinking was, Tony couldn't shake it. There was also the irrational, lurking doubt that whispered it had all just been a vivid, alcohol-induced dream. Any minute now he'd wake up to find that Loki was dead and gone, and all Tony had was could've, would've, shoud'ves.

That's not to say he wasn't ecstatic Loki really was back; he was beyond thrilled. Loki was alive, and more or less in one piece- the god was exhausted and grimaced every time he moved, but he's muscles were mending rapidly and he'd be healthy in no time -and that was all Tony had wanted.

Yet now that he was no longer so worried that he could barely function, he realized that there was something darker under that concern. Tony felt betrayed: Loki left when Tony was impaired, with nothing more than a vague apology. Loki did not wait for him. Loki did not consult him. Loki did not trust him.

And it _hurt_.

Steve kept insisting Loki didn't intend for his actions to represent that, but it was hard for Tony to ignore the little murmurs in his mind that insisted he did. It didn't matter that he knew that wasn't the way Loki thought; the nagging doubt was still there, lurking in his mind creating distance between the god and him. It was horrid, the gap that was growing between them, but it persisted in staying. Loki's actions were doing nothing to ease it, either.

The god has been acting… strange, since he came back. Tony couldn't put a finger on just what was wrong, but it was definitely something. Where there once was calm there was now jaded determination; something had captured Loki's attention so completely that everything else- even Tony –was pushed to the side. It was both an awe-inspiriting tenacity... and frightening.

While maybe it was just regaining lost knowledge that had Loki so hell-bent, Tony had a feeling it was more than that. It had to be important for it to affect Loki so, but he was clueless as to what it was. When he tried to ask, Loki had avoided his questions; instead he retreated to his room to study the books, despite the fact that neither Tony nor Jarvis could make heads or tails of the content anyway. It was alarming behavior, and honestly just downright suspicious.

Tony didn't want to doubt his friend, but clearly Loki was hiding something from him. It could be something inconsequential, like the god was ashamed he stumbled through spells he considered simple while he tried to relearn, or it could be something serious- something that Tony, in his lack of knowledge about Asgard, just could not predict. And that thought bothered him.

When he tried to communicate his doubts to Pepper, she waved his worries off as stress. He'd been through a lot the past month- they both have -and he just needed to give it time. Loki normally reacted to things oddly; it was just a part of who the void made him, and this was no different. Tony was just jumping at shadows.

Bruce and Steve agreed with Pep's statement, just telling him to 'give it time', but they didn't know Loki like he did. Their words were paltry at best, and Tony didn't stop worrying. That brought him back to constantly checking in on the god, much to the displeasure of his AI.

"Sir, you are well aware that I will report anything of significance to you. If Loki does start giving me another goodbye speech, you will be the first to know."

"If he even looks like he's thinking about making one I want to know," Tony ordered, knowing it was a foolish commanded but giving it anyway. Then he sighed again, dragging his head off the table as if it weighed a ton. He crossed his arm over his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, his shoulder aching with the movement. It was no longer biting pain- just a stubborn throb that served as a constant reminder of everything that had happened, and the damages that were done.

Rubbing the back of his hand across his face, he gazed woefully at the newest suit he was attempting to create. This one he designed specifically for space and inter-realm travel, and when he finished it'd be gem amongst his collection. However, his work was proceeding at a crawl; he was constantly sidetracked by his unease. It was supposed to get better with Loki home, not worse.

He tugged halfheartedly at a few of the wires, inspecting the connection ports but making no move to fix the few defects he saw; the spark just wasn't there. Setting the motherboard back down, he rose to his feet and began pacing the lab. He just could not sit in here any longer.

"Contact Fury," Tony ordered. "Tell him I need a mission, preferably an international one." When science failed and drinking himself into the ground wasn't an option, then smashing things was always an alternative; he'd make the Hulk proud.

"Of course, sir." There was a pause, and then, "Loki is asking if you would rather work on a new model of the Dragon Slayer instead."

Loki? "...Shit," Tony swore, having completely forgotten- once again -that Loki could hear him. Now the god knew of Tony's entire doubting fit; that's just great. Like the situation wasn't bad enough already.

"Well then, since you're listening in Loki, we can do that when I get back." Tony spoke to the room, attempting damage control. He didn't want to do this right now. "I take it you've figured out what the problem was?"

He felt awkward as he waited for a reply; it never felt this strange when he was just talking to Jarvis. It was different when Loki could hear his reply, and yet Tony had to use the AI as the middle man in their…whatever it was that was happening between them. He didn't want to call it an argument, but it was a passive-aggressive feud nonetheless.

"He says he believes he knows what the problem was, and that Fury would most likely prefer it if you kept Doom your main priority." Jarvis relayed, managing to sound annoyed even when he was just repeating Loki's words. Well tough luck; Tony wasn't going to walk all the way upstairs just for Loki to shrug him off again.

"Since when have I ever cared what Fury wanted?" Tony asked; even if Loki had a point, he needed to get out of the house. All he needed was a few hours for himself, and then he'd have the energy to handle talking to the god. Besides, why did it matter to Loki what he did? It wasn't like he had been eager to work with Tony this past week, let alone talk to the engineer.

"I'll be back in a few hours. You can keep yourself entertained until then, princess." Not waiting for the reply, he continued speaking into the empty room, this time to Jarvis, "Get Fury on the line, and prep Mark Thirty-Four."

He turned to go, but he'd only taken a step before a voice spoke up behind him. "Tony..."

Hearing Loki say his name stopped him dead in his tracks, and Tony slowly spun around to face the god. Loki was standing by the door, his tall frame appearing smaller under a pervasive weariness. That emotion Tony couldn't pinpoint was there as well, taking the place of Loki's beautiful smiles.

When Tony said nothing, the god's arm twitched at his side- as if Loki wanted to reach out and physically stop him from leaving -but then it stilled. Instead, Loki just repeated, "Tony," like his name was a spell all of its own.

"Oh, so we're talking in person now?" Tony asked bitterly, his pleasure at seeing the god overshadowed by the proof of Loki's excursion: dark circles under the god's haunted eyes, a vivid scar on his arm, and the persistent downturn of his mouth.

Loki ignored Tony's comment, just like he has been all week, and said, "We should finish the Dragon Slayer before you waste time on pointless things."

Tony couldn't help it; he scoffed. "Right, because _I'm_ the one wasting time. You've just been a model of efficiency all month, haven't you? A real trooper."

Loki gritted his teeth, averting his eyes. _That_ is what Tony was anxious about: the near-guilty reactions that the god kept having to the simplest of comments. There was no way something _wasn't_ going on, no matter what his other friends said.

"I've been doing what I must," Loki replied, words firm even if his body language wasn't. "Nothing more, nothing less."

"Whatever you say, Marvin." Tony replied, watching the god just making him itch to leave even more. He needed to get away from this right now. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go do my thing, and you can get back to doing 'nothing more'."

This time when he stalked over to the suit, he didn't stop even when Loki hissed his name. If the god thought he had any right to forbid Tony to leave- especially after what he did -he was dead wrong. Trust worked both ways, and it could break both ways.

But then Loki dropped the animosity, and he pleaded, "Tony, _please._"

Tony found himself coming to a halt once again; upset or not, he couldn't ignore Loki's distress. He didn't turn to look, but he could hear the god take a step closer. "Stay here and work with me," Loki entreated, abandoning his previous haughtiness. "There's no need for you to risk your life."

It was that comment that made it click in Tony's head. Loki wasn't trying to control him; he was trying to protect him. Tony had been looking at it the wrong way.

"You're worried," he observed out loud, turning to look at Loki. The god met his eyes, but he didn't confirm or deny Tony's statement. It didn't matter; Tony knew he was spot on. "Why? You never were before." But that was just it: Loki wasn't concerned _before_- before the sharp, horrid pain. Before the mocking voice. Before the darkness.

Loki clenched his fist, but again didn't say anything. Tony tried to understand just what his near death had to mean to Loki, who was practically immortal by human standards. What must it have been like, for him to truly realize that Tony was so fragile in comparison? Things could go wrong- did go wrong -and there was only so much he could do about it.

But that was life; Tony didn't want to die, but he had long since accepted the fact that one day he would. Being Iron Man just brought that day closer. It didn't stop him.

"Lokes..." He started, watching as the god dropped his gaze to the floor; he knew what Tony was going to say, and he didn't like it. "I can't just sit idle in the lab all day, even if it is safer. Hell, I don't even know if it is safer. I've gotten hurt more times working in here than I have as Iron Man." Not quite as fatally, but you can't design weapons without getting burned or crushed every once and a while.

"Stay here," Loki repeated futilely.

"No. That's not a solution, and you know it. I can't stay inside forever."

"Not forever," the god insisted, looking almost pained. "Just for a little while."

Tony shook his head, feeling like he was trying to convince a brick wall. But even if Loki didn't listen, he couldn't coddle him. Not with this. "Why does it matter? Nothing is going to change. I'm human; we're mortal. That's just how it goes. I'm not staying here tonight."

Loki clearly wanted to keep arguing, and he opened his mouth to do so, but the he stopped. "Have it your way," he said instead. "I will be practicing spells while you are away. If you require my assistance, have Jarvis contact me." And with that the god vanished, not even telling him goodbye.

Watching the now vacated spot, Tony was abruptly overcome by a wave of sorrow. Is this how it was going to be between them? Stilted conversations that ended with both of them running away? Their bond was still there, that much was clear, but with so much conflict clouding the way it felt distant and hollow.

Tony didn't want to think about what was missing between them, or continue to worry about Loki; he just wanted a break from it all, before the stress built up to a fever pitch.

"Alright, come on Jarv. Get Fury on the line," Tony ordered, stepping onto the dock and letting the suit fall around him, cementing his decision to go. This time there was no delay, and Fury's gravely voice came over the speakers.

"What do you want this time, Stark?"

Tony thought one last time about Loki and the god's plea for him to stay, and then he pushed it away. "Give me a mission."

-o-o-o-

Only when Loki heard Tony leave- off to intercept a weapon's shipment to a terrorist cell overseas –did he move from where he had teleported. He worried that if he had taken even a single step before he would have been unable to resist the impulse to go and stop Tony. It wasn't even a rational impulse; it was only sane to want to avoid Tony's death at all cost. That's why the man should have stayed, at least until Idunn's apple had bestowed upon him the longevity of the gods.

But Tony was off risking his puny mortal life again, and while Loki could use theatrics to bring him back he decided against it. If Tony was going to insist on leaving, then Loki would just have to expedite his plans. The ingredients were gathered; he just needed an opening to perform the ritual and disguise the apple. Tony leaving the house provided that opening.

A part of Loki- a small but incredibly persistent part of him -kept insisting that he should not hide the apple from Tony. That what he was doing was a betrayal of trust, and it wasn't his right. His nagging conscience revolted against the idea of tricking Tony and making such a vital choice for him. It should be Tony's choice if he wanted to live for thousands upon thousands of years, aging imperceptibly while all of his friends grew old and died.

Loki ignored those doubts; he _had_ to make Tony immortal. There were no exceptions. He could not live forever without the man by his side, so Tony had to be there. It was for that simple reason that he refused to ask Tony for permission. What if he asked Tony and the man said no? Would Loki be satisfied obeying his will?

He wouldn't. Tony would age, his mortal body succumbing to illness and disease. He'd die from a blade to the heart, or a blow to the head. It'd be so easy for the magnificence that was Tony Stark to decay into obscurity, and Loki couldn't stand that. Even if Tony said no, Loki would try to make him immortal anyway; doing so would just be unforgivable.

However, if he did not ask then Tony could not say no. It didn't matter if he would have said yes; Loki's actions would then not be a violation of trust, but simply an expedition of Tony's decision.

Without mercy Loki crushed any doubts and buried them deep beneath a mask of terror- the same terror he had felt when Tony was dying under his hands, staining his hands an abhorrent scarlet. If he just made Tony immortal, then life could move on; he'd not be crippled by the obsessive fear of Tony's lurking demise. He'd be able to hunt down Doom and avenge Tony's anguish. He could work alongside the engineer and forget all about Asgard. He could delude himself into thinking no one would come after him; that they would not find him here.

(It was a foolish hope.)

"Jarvis, tell me immediately if something happens to him or if it looks like he is in danger," Loki commanded, waiting until he received an affirmative before he forced himself to relax. He sat down on the floor and surrounded himself with opened tomes; he immersed himself in the runes, entreating them to drown out the incessant desire to go to drag Tony back home. Only the familiar beauty of those pages was enough to still him, and he delved into what they offered him.

Flipping through the worn pages brought up a torrent of memories that had once been lost to him, and the strewn pieces of his mind started to fall back into place. It wasn't perfect- some things continued to evade him, gaping holes in the puzzle with no pieces to be found- but it was enough for him to finally feel like 'Loki' again. What exactly he wanted 'Loki' to be he didn't quite know, but he was getting there.

One book in particular drew Loki in, and he abandoned the others to reach for the stained, musky grimoire. He creaked it open, easily navigating to the one spell that could make everything right. Offered in innocuous black symbols, it would do the unthinkable for him. Granting immortality was forbidden, and Loki's mind greedily devoured the information.

He reread the entire ritual three times before he even dared to get started. Everything had to be exact, or he could very well kill himself in his attempt. Such was the fate of many young, arrogant sorcerers. Only when he was absolutely sure he knew every word perfectly did he begin to assemble the spell's construct.

Loki pulled a ritualistic knife with a thin, inscribed blade out of the air, and in one swift movement he slid the metal across his palm. Blood welled to the surface in measured spurts, and he kneeled on the ground to paint a crimson enneagram onto the white carpet around him. At each of the nine points he drew a circle, and when the star was complete he murmured a healing prayer to seal the cut on his hand.

That complete, he placed a small ceramic bowl in each ring. Each one contained a different ingredient, from powdered monkshood to the bones of an Aesir. On each interior intersection he placed black candles, which he lit with flick of his fingers.

Then he stopped; there was only one more thing he had to do before he could start the spell, and that was blind Jarvis. He rose to his feet and carefully extracting himself from the complex set-up that littered the floor, not willing to risk smearing a single line.

Clear of the spellwork, Loki asked, "Jarvis, is Tony alright?" Once the AI was down, he'd have no way of knowing if something went wrong. It was necessary, but being disconnected from the engineer incited anxiety nonetheless.

"Yes, sir. Tony is unharmed and appears to have full control of the situation."

Loki accepted the reassurance; Tony would be okay for now, and when he came home Loki would gift him with immortality.

"How much longer until he returns?" He ignored how easy it was to pitch his voice so he sounded anxious for Tony's return, and not as if he were just calculating how much time he had before he was interrupted.

It took Jarvis a bit longer to reply this time, then he said, "Tony expects to take at least five more hours."

Loki resisted the urge to frown; five hours was good. He could finish in five hours.

(But he didn't want to be alone that long.)

"Thank you Jarvis. I will be practicing some spells, so if I accidentally catch something on fire don't worry about it. I'll handle it."

"I'd appreciate it if you don't burn the house down, sir. I have enough of that with Tony."

Before Tony's fall in New York, Loki would have laughed at the joke; he would have chided the AI in return, and he would have been happy. But he kept quiet. Tony was angry with him; what was there to laugh about?

"I will endeavor not to," Loki replied detachedly as he reached down to pick up one of his own tomes. Unlike the grimoire, his personal collection had been relatively easy to steal, if one did not count to emotional turmoil; he just had to break into his old room, after all.

He adamantly didn't think about what he had seen back there. Or more specifically, what he _didn't_ see. There had been no dust, no spider webs, no relics of time. It was as clean as the day he left it, as if it were waiting for him, stuck in time. The whole thing made no sense. If his family hated him, why would they do that? And Loki had no doubts that they did hate him; they had to.

(Even if their actions said otherwise.)

Thumbing through the pages of his book, he cast some irrelevant spells to avoid suspicion. Gouts of flame sprung from his fingertips, and a dozen Loki's flickered into existence. Not breaking rhythm, he flipped to a different page in his spell book and began casting a cloaking spell. The magic hung heavy on his fingers, the runes he drew vibrant and thrumming.

Loki paused just before completing the last rune. "He's still okay, right?" He asked, hand hovering in the air.

"He is, sir."

"Good." And then Loki flicked his finger down, finishing the last rune. Instantaneously, magic exploded outwards from the ring of symbols. It washed over Loki and reverberated through the house, concussive like a shock-wave. Following the burst was a high pitched alarm as Jarvis reacted to the energy fluctuation. It wailed through the house, but no one was there to hear it. Tony was hundreds of miles away, and Loki... as far as the AI was concerned, Loki didn't exist.

Ignoring the siren, Loki closed the book and tossed it aside. He stepped into the middle of the enneagram, mindful of the crimson lines, and plucked the apple out of the air. Its metallic skin glistened in the bright lights, and Loki reverently brushed his fingers over the smooth gold. Then he began to chant.

Each resonant syllable Loki spoke was accompanied by a stream of magic, a glowing mist that dripped from his open mouth. The words hung in the air until gravity pulled them down into the spell lines. When they hit the drying blood, the entire room pulsed with colorful light; the magic buzzed in tune with Loki's chanting.

As the spell progressed, the lines between Loki and Yggsdrasil faded; he became lost in the sea of shimmering colors and dancing lights. Immersed in magic, it was the antithesis of the void- Bright. Colorful. Lively. Chaotic.

Distantly he could feel the ache of his core as more and more magic was leeched from his body, but he didn't care. And even more distantly than that, far beyond the haze of magic, he could faintly hear his name; he didn't care. In the throes of the spell, all of his worries ceased to be. All that mattered was the _magic_.

However, the spell seemed to end as quickly as it began; the last words rung in Loki's ears, and as that ringing faded so too did the ecstasy. For a moment Loki was in limbo, caught between the lingering sensations of magic and the encroaching reality. He stood still as the magic flared one last time, coalescing in the apple he held in his hands, before fading back into dreary colors.

Loki breathed heavily as his brain rebooted, his senses returning one by one. He could once again feel the glossy surface of the apple, and the walls around him returned to focus. His hearing returned last, bringing with it Tony's agitated voice to destroy the remnants of Loki's bliss.

"-whatever this is it isn't funny! What did you do to Jarvis? Where are you? Damn it, I don't even know if you're around to listen to this... If you're listening, I'm on my way back. You better have a good explanation for this!" Tony ranted, a noxious mix of fear and rage.

Guilt boiled inside of Loki as he listened, knowing and unable to deny that he was the one causing the man distress, until finally he couldn't take it anymore. With a wave of his hand he forced the speakers into silence.

Loki peered intently at the apple in hands. Although on the outside it looked no different, he could feel the concentrated magic bursting inside of it. So innocent looking, and yet this little apple was the only conduit for artificial immortality.

Last minute doubts teased around the edges of Loki's mind, but he ignored them; he _must_ give the apple to Tony.

-o-o-o-

By the time the line finally went through, Tony wasn't even sure what he was saying anymore.

"-and I don't even like swimming, but I swear to god if you don't answer me I will throw you into the ocean and fish you out- with the suit, because you weigh a goddamn ton. It's because your skull is so damn thick, you moron. So fix Jarvis, and-"

"Tony," Loki's voice suddenly interrupted, startling Tony into silence. "I can hear you just fine."

Tony felt relieved for all of five seconds, and then anger scorched through him. "What the hell did you do?" He shouted.

"My apologies," Loki replied, but Tony didn't think he sounded sorry at all. "I was unaware that it would do that. I thought Jarvis would be unaffected by it."

Tony growled deep in his throat. That excuse was utter bullshit; the first time Tony leaves the house all week, and Loki shuts down Jarvis within the hour. What wasn't suspicious about that? "And you had to make me wait forty minutes to fix it? What do you take me for?"

That's just typical: he goes out to be rid of his worries, and half-way through Loki just has to go and do something stupid again. To top it off, all Jarvis could tell him was that he had been compromised and couldn't find Loki. What was he suppose to think? He had excused himself from the mission immediately, but it made no difference.

"I was not aware there was a problem until I tried to consult Jarvis. Again, my apologies."

"Whatever," Tony retorted. "How you holding up, Jarv? I'll take a closer look at your system when I get there."

"I do not feel compromised any longer, sir, but I would appreciate a code check." The AI sounded spooked, and Tony grit his teeth. No one messed with Jarvis. Except for Loki, apparently.

Tony didn't like feeling mad at Loki; it hurt to feel so angry at someone he loved being around. That's why this needed to stop. They could not keep going on this way.

"We'll discuss this when I get home. And if you cast one more spell before I get back, I swear I will burn the goddamn books of yours."

"I won't," Loki promised, but sadly Tony just didn't feel like he could trust him. Still, there was nothing he could do otherwise, so he closed to the line to give himself some time alone. He needed to sort his own thoughts out before he got home.

However, he could spend days trying to figure everything out and still not make progress; Tony was no less conflicted by the time he touched down in the garage. He sighed in relief when he didn't find the god waiting for him in the lab, granting him a few more minutes to compose himself.

"Alright, Jarvis," he called. "Take this bad boy off. I'll examine your system after I talk to Loki."

"Yes, sir."

Tony was worried- understandably so -about the AI; there was no telling just what the magic had done to him. But despite his earlier freak out, Jarvis seemed to be working fine now; he pulled the suit off with no problem, and when Tony did a quick check on the computer nothing seemed amiss. He'd still go through the code later, but for now it seemed stable.

With that done, Tony no longer had any reason to delay. He dragged himself upstairs, still having no idea what to say by the time he reached the living room. But he wasn't going to delay anymore, so he swept into the kitchen with no plan other than to repair their friendship.

Loki was sitting at the table and drinking a smoothie when Tony entered, and the god looked up when he paused at the threshold. "I made you one, too," Loki said, nudging a second glass towards the seat across from him.

Smoothies as a token of truce? Tony could work with that. "If it's whatever you're drinking, I don't want it," he remarked as he moved to sit down across from Loki. He peered cautiously at his glass, but it was cherry red instead of beige like Loki's. Deeming it acceptable, he pulled it close and took a sip.

Loki stared at him while he drank, as if he'd suddenly keel over dead, and Tony frowned at him."What?" He grumbled around the straw, fingers anxiously drumming Star Wars into the side of the cup.

"Nothing," Loki said, shaking his head slightly. Then he pushed his own drink aside and got right down to business. "You are angry with me."

Tony followed his lead, scooting the glass to the side as his stomach flipped nauseatingly. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock."

"It was not my intention to anger you. I apologize."

"No," Tony said sharply, and Loki flinched. "You can't just say sorry like that makes everything better. So you say you don't want to piss me off, then what are you trying to do? Get yourself killed? I thought we were over that. Unless you backtracked and didn't tell me."

"I do not want to die," Loki murmured, not meeting Tony's eyes.

"Then _why_?" He asked, because honestly he just didn't know anymore.

"I... Because _you_ aren't supposed to die."

Tony was taken aback for a second, not quite expecting that answer, but then he gathered himself. "Loki, look at me." He waited until he had Loki's full attention, then he continued, "I'm a human. Humans die. There's nothing wrong with trying to help me- I appreciate not dying, really -but I will die someday. I don't want you to get hurt because you have some insane notion that you can prevent that."

Loki shook his head again, this time in denial. "I can't just sit back and watch you die. I can't... Not again."

Something twisted in Tony, and finally he started to understand just how badly New York had scared the god. All of it- the trip to Asgard, the obsessive behavior, the short temper -was just Loki's reaction to his fear. And Tony understood; he tried to imagine Loki bleeding out beneath his hands, and simply thinking about the possibility was enough to convince him he'd do _anything_ to help the god- even things Loki didn't approve of, if it came down to that.

Which is why Tony couldn't stand the idea that Loki would die for him.

"You don't need to risk your own life," he insisted. "You're worth more than that. There's no need for you to throw everything away on a rash decision. Come to me if you need help. And if not me, then someone else. You don't need to do everything alone, Loki."

"I am...unaccustomed to having people who are willing to help me," the god admitted.

"Yeah? Well get used to it, because you aren't getting rid of me anytime soon." Tony said, leaning across the table to clap Loki on the shoulder.

Loki smiled back at him. "There's no one else I'd rather be with," he replied, looking as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Tony felt the same, and the tension between them dissipated.

"That's because no one else is as smart as me," he joked. Deeming the heart-to-heart conversation over, Tony stood up and reached for his smoothie. "Come on, we need to finish our little Doom problem."

Loki moved to follow him, and as they made their way down to the lab Tony said, "Next time if you're going to do something that may damage Jarvis, tell me first. I'm glad you can do magic again, but please don't be foolish."

"If that is your wish," Loki conceded.

Tony smiled, nudging the god's shoulder again. "But I would like a demonstration later. You can't keep all of your new tricks to yourself."

-o-o-o-

Tony ended up getting that demonstration a bit differently than he'd of liked. It was only a few days after things were set straight that Fury called with an emergency.

"Stark," the director began, voice grave. Tony had never heard him sound like that; he immediately dropped what he was working on.

"What happened?"

"Get a screen. There's something you need to see."

Jarvis was already complying when Tony asked, "Why? Is there a problem? Do I need to suit up?"

"Depends what you consider a problem," Fury said, his scowling face now projected onto the wall. "We got reports on Bifrost activity thirty minutes ago."

Tony's stomach dropped. The Bifrost meant only one thing: Asgard. Across the lab, he could hear Loki muttered a strangled 'no'. Fury continued speaking.

"Thor is on Earth looking for Loki."


	13. Chapter 13

"_He did this:  
Took all you had and,  
Left you this way…  
__Never taste of the fruit,  
You never thought to question why._

_It's not like you killed someone._  
_It's not like you drove a hateful spear into his side._  
_Praise the one who left you,_  
_Broken down and paralyzed._  
_He did it all for you_."

-o-o-o-

Tony has always hated the quote 'expect the unexpected'; it's a load of crap. If you know to expect it, then it won't be unexpected. And if you don't know to expect it- don't even know what it is you are supposed to expect- then how the hell are you supposed to be ready for it?

After Fury said the damning words, Tony immediately looked towards Loki and watched as the god's face went pale in mortification. Petrified, it took Loki a few times before he could manage to get words out.

"Show me," the god rasped, gaze caught on Fury even as he automatically drifted towards Tony. When the director wasn't forthcoming, hesitating as he took in Loki's sheer terror, the god continued, "You have surveillance of him, don't you? That's why you wanted the screen." His voice trembled despite his efforts to sound collected.

Fury didn't say anything, and that was answer enough.

"Show it to me," Loki practically begged. "I need to see him."

"We do have surveillance footage." Fury started, but he didn't continue; the following silence was filled with the unsaid question of 'but will you be able to handle watching it?'. Then the director glanced over at Tony, checking if it was safe to continue, and Tony had to admit that despite any initial misgivings the director wasn't a cruel man- maybe a bit too intent on the end goal, and in serious need if a chill pill, but not cruel. Fury knew from firsthand experience that simply seeing Thor could push Loki to the edge, and he was reluctant to do that again.

However, Tony also realized that they couldn't just ignore this, Loki's turbulent mental state or not. Loki knew Thor better than anyone else on Earth; if the other god was going to be their enemy, then that was information they'd need. Tony didn't want to compromise Loki just for information, but he had to make that call: temporarily delay the threat by letting Loki see Thor, or take an even greater risk to preserve the god's sanity.

"Just play the clip, Fury," Tony eventually ordered, hoping he was making the right choice.

Fury didn't challenge his decision; he nodded his head slightly in acquiescence. "Very well."

The moment it took for the director's face to fade seemed to take forever, and neither Tony nor Loki dared to move; it was as if the slightest shift would bring the world falling down upon them. That did not change when grainy security footage filled the screen, either.

As a clip began to play, Tony was torn between watching the screen and watching Loki. The god beside him was like stone, all the way down to his lungs; Loki's breaths came in short, rapid bursts. Tony wanted to keep a close eye on him, in case he took an all too possible turn for the worst. However, when booming voice came across the speakers he could no longer ignore the red-cloaked figure on the screen.

"Where is he? I know he's on Midgard!" Thor shouted, hammer raised threateningly; he was surrounded by at least a dozen SHIELD agents, their guns trained on him.

It was Coulson's voice that responded, though the man himself was not visible. "Put the weapon down, sir," he ordered calmly.

Face clouded by thunderous rage, Thor didn't listen; he took a threatening step forwards, and while Tony assumed the god as stepping towards Agent Coulson, it was Loki who took a frightful step back. "You will tell me where he is!" The God of Thunder boomed, either ignorant or unconcerned that with his demand all fingers pressed tighter into triggers; the agents were ready to shoot him at a moment's notice. Not that it would do them any good; Tony now understood that it'd take more than a few standard bullets to take a god down.

Coulson didn't know that, however, and remained unimpressed with the aggressive display. Instead, the man actually walked forwards until the back of his head was visible in the corner of the screen. When he spoke again, it was with the same flat tone. "Put down the weapon, and then we'll talk."

For a moment it didn't look like Thor would comply- he scowled at the men around him and tightened his grip on the hammer -but then he collected himself and pulled back. The hammer dropped to the ground, flinging dirt into the air with a heavy thud. After a few tense moments, the SHIELD agents followed suit, lowering their guns but not letting go.

Even though he was now unarmed and outnumbered, Thor held his chin high; it was an action that spoke of self-entitlement, one that Tony had seen Loki use more than a few times. Again Thor voiced his demands.

"I have done as you ask. Now tell me where he is."

Back in the present, Loki shifted anxiously where he stood; unable to put his trust in others, the god was more than ready to make a run for it if SHIELD really had given their location away. But Coulson, while knowing exactly who it was Thor wanted and where they were, just said, "You will have to be more specific than that."

Thor didn't appreciate the agent's dry humor, and he clenched his fists. "Do not mess with me! He had to have come here! You will not hide Loki from us any longer!"

Tony watched the god beside him closely, but other than a poorly suppressed flinch, Loki seemed to be holding himself together. But how long would that composure last? Tony didn't know, and he feared the fallout.

"I believe you are mistaken. We are not in association with anyone by that name," Coulson replied, and while Tony didn't actually think the agent would rat them out, he breathed out in relief anyway. Rough start or not, SHIELD was on their side; it was an assistance they would be hard pressed to go without.

Loki, however, was not as soothed; he knew to what lengths his brother would go better than anyone, and he clearly did not think SHIELD's backing would be enough.

"Lies!" Thor roared, and Tony was surprised when his hammer suddenly launched itself back into his outstretched hand. Guns rose in response, the engineer not being the only one startled, but the Thunder God was not deterred. "I searched everywhere else! My brother must be here, and you are the defenders of this realm! You _must_ know where he is!"

A pensive frown slipped into Tony's expression as he watched the grainy, agitated Thor on the screen. He didn't know everything that was at play here, didn't even presume to think that, but to him that last sentence sounded... desperate. And not just in a 'this guy is a criminal I need to deal with' way, either. It was more tender than that, more like he was saying 'he's my brother, and I don't know where he is'. Tony may be wrong, and a quick glance at Loki confirmed that the god still looked like he was standing at the gallows, but... Maybe Loki also didn't know everything that was going on. What if they were missing a key detail?

Frown deepening, Tony turned to watch the older brother. Thor was still scowling at Coulson, especially when the man continued to negate him with, "We are only a small government division in America." Lies. "If your brother is here, we do not have him." But now that Tony knew to look for it, there was definitely something else there, something that was akin to sorrow.

That barely perceptible sadness intensified when it became clear to Thor that he would get no answers from SHIELD. His face fell slightly as he lost hope, but then determination fixed the scowl right back on.

"Have it your way. I will find him myself," Thor asserted, lifting his hammer high above his head. The SHIELD agents stirred anxiously, hands tight around their guns, but instead of attacking the god began to spin the hammer above his head. With one heavy twirl, he defied the laws of physics and hurtled into the air.

As Thor flew from the vantage of the camera, the clip fell into black; Fury and his charming eye-patch reappeared a few seconds later. The director appeared even more displeased than he did before their little movie break, and he didn't get any happier when he looked at Loki, who was struggling to break out of 'fight or flight' mode. Under the inspection of judging eyes Loki's pride was quick to build a mask, but Tony could easily see the distress churning beneath the thin veil.

"SHIELD doesn't rat out our own," Fury said, "Even if they do deserve it." Despite his words, the barb was mild; Loki had proved himself to be a worthy ally over the past months, and Fury would be a hypocrite to not allow the god this second chance. The director didn't trust Loki (didn't trust anyone, really), but it was clear where Loki's loyalties lied; as long as Tony was still in the equation the god would not betray them, and that was good enough for Fury.

"He's not going to just walk away," Loki stated, unable to halt the anxious clenching of his hands. "Not if he's sure I'm on Midgard."

Fury sighed, but it was obvious he had already resigned himself to that fact. "You aliens are a real pain in the ass, you know that?" He growled, then turned his head to regard someone else on the bridge; Tony and Loki couldn't make out what was being said, but when he turned back his face had somehow managed to darken even more.

"Like I said, a real pain in the ass," Fury reiterated. "Stark, we need you in New Mexico."

New Mexico? So Thor really was causing problems; he sure didn't waste any time.

Tony glanced over at Loki, who had abandoned acting like a deer in the headlights in order to pace along the wall. The engineer bit his lip in uncertainty; did he really want to leave Loki alone like this?

"Is it necessary that I go?" He voiced aloud, tearing his gaze away from the constant back-forth, back-forth.

"You're the only Avenger available at the moment," Fury refuted. "Besides, it is in your best interest to stop Thor now."

Fury was right, of course, but that didn't change Tony's hesitance. Loki could easily be as much of a threat to himself as Thor.

As if Loki could read his thoughts (and Tony wouldn't be too surprised if he could), the god stopped pacing to say, "I'll be fine."

Just those three words were not enough, as Loki had lied with that same statement countless times in the pass, but as Tony closely studied the god's face he saw that it was the truth. Loki may be stressed, but he had far more resilience than he used to.

(But just how much could he handle without breaking?)

"We'll send you the coordinates once you're suited up," Fury said, taking Loki's comment as acquiescence. Before Tony could protest again, the man disappeared and the screen went black.

Tony sighed tiredly, dragging his hand through his hair. It wasn't like he had much of a choice anyway. "I'll be back in a bit," he told Loki. "Might as well end this mess now."

But no matter how much Tony wished otherwise, the mess didn't end there. Although he had perfectly reasonable reservations, he obeyed Fury and went to New Mexico; Thor was storming through the city, shouting his brother's name and demanding compliance. Cars had to skid to a stop as he wandered into the street, and civilians rushed to avoid the insane man amongst them. Police milled about the edges, watching closely but not interesting.

Tony dropped down behind Thor, landing down onto the pavement with a heavy thud; the god spun around, hammer at the ready, and Tony raised his hands in a gesture of nonviolence.

"Whoa there, Point Break," he had said. "I'm not here to fight you." At least not yet; there was something Tony had to see for himself first. Only if Thor proved his theory wrong, or refused to step down, would he attack.

The God of Thunder scrutinized Iron Man, then replied, "I have no quarrel with you. Stay out of my way and I will not harm you," He lifted the hammer again, this time in preparation of flight, but Tony interrupted him.

"Yeah, no can do. I don't know how things work in Asgard, but you can't just storm down the streets swinging weapons around." Nor was he allowed the threaten Loki, but that was another matter.

"Your people cannot stop me," Thor replied, as if that was justification for anything. Once again Tony could see the parallels between the two gods, and he wondered just how much of Loki's personality problems came from the void and how much started long before that.

"Maybe they can't, but I can," Tony said, raising the right repulsor. He still didn't want to fight Thor, but he also knew a lost cause when he saw one. Talking it out wasn't going to work right now, and with his theory left unverified Thor could be a serious threat to Loki; that was all the motivation Tony needed to fight. Loki's well-being came first.

"A tin man is no match for me either," was the god's arrogant reply, and he made to leave again. Tony couldn't just let him walk away, so he defaulted to what he did best- pissing people off.

"Doth mother know you weareth her drapes?" Tony countered, and had to lunge out of the way a second later as the hammer came rocketing at his chest. Truce broken, he fired back before rocketing into the air, inciting Thor to follow.

The brawl that followed lasted nearly half an hour, and in that time Tony made zero progress in halting Thor. The Thunder God's hammer well…hammered Tony's armor; the chest plate was dented to the point of pressing painfully into Tony's chest, and the corner of his face mask protruded outwards. He did manage to get a few of his own hits in- Thor's cape was torn and singed, and he too sported a dinged chest plate –but the god himself was unharmed. Not even a repulsor blast stopped him; he would get flung across the street, but got back up as if it were nothing.

"Jarvis, let's try another full blast. All power to the chest," Tony instructed, trying to straighten his arm and grimacing as the joint screeched at him- another suit destined for the scrap pile.

"Yes sir, but may I say that I do not think it will be effective," Jarvis replied, but the familiar hum of the repulsor started up anyway; Tony had already wasted all of the stored blasts. Thor's bulk was misleading; he moved lightning fast, and the heavyweight suit Tony had selected was struggling to keep up. The god was picking himself up off of the ground, and Tony urged Jarvis to go faster. "Come on, buddy. Don't leave me hanging."

A voice that was definitely not Jarvis was the one to reply. "Stark, you need to cease and desist," Fury ordered, much to Tony's disbelief.

"Me?" he squawked, chest beam continuing to load while Thor brushed himself off and prepared to throw himself back into battle. "I thought the entire point of coming out here was to stop him. Why do I need to retreat? I've got this."

Fury wasn't swayed by Tony's bravado. "You're fighting is causing far more damage than he was before you arrived, and you have no results to go with it."

Tony couldn't deny that the collateral damage was getting a bit excessive; the street they were fighting in was now more gravel than pavement. Giant cracks marred the sidewalk, and one unfortunate car parked to the side had been accidentally blasted into a smoking heap. Buildings that lined the street had shattered windows and crushed storefronts. Then there was Thor, standing amidst the wreckage looking ready to take on the House Party Protocol.

Tony sighed; Fury was right. "Jarvis, kill the beam." The AI complied, and the gathering light faded into nothing. Thor was watching him closely from the other side of the road, but he must have realized that something had changed because he did not attack. Still, Tony kept an eye on him as he asked, "Alright, then what are we supposed to do? Just let him run amok?"

"That's my concern. For now, you are no longer to fight him."

Tony huffed in displeasure, but he listened anyway. "Yo, Blondie!" He called, and the god glared at him in response. "Let's cut this party short, shall we? I have a dry martini waiting for me back home." Not waiting for Thor's response, Tony waved mockingly at him then rocketed into the air. He glanced behind him to see if he was being followed, but Thor remained grounded.

It felt too much like returning home in defeat for Tony, but he went anyway; he wasn't arrogant enough to think he was going to win that fight. All he could so was slink back to Loki and try and not think about how he had failed, lest the guilt eat away at him.

Just as Tony expected, the god didn't take the news of Iron Man's inadequacy well. He paced and twitched as if he were crawling out of his own skin, and Tony struggled to find a suitable distraction. In the end, it was only the promise of revenge that got Loki to concentrate on something besides being hunted down.

Loki plotted against Victor von Doom with brutal intensity, and they finally managed to discover the loophole Doom used against the Dragon Slayer. But the god didn't stop there; he went through every bit of information he could get on the man, from pictures of his castle to the history of Latveria. It was as if Loki was getting ready to go to war, with Doom's head as the final goal.

(Tony tried to not think too much about Loki's untempered hatred; beneath the scars of the void- or maybe because of those scars- there was repressed insanity, and it worried Tony.)

Yet they could not completely ignore the threat, and the entire time they worked they kept close watch on Thor's movements. Despite Fury saying that he'd take care of it, SHIELD could not stop the god; they tried, but Thor was undeterred. He was intent on his quest, and he went from city to city without rest; he searched for his brother like a man possessed.

Loki was unable to rest either, always obsessing over the reports even after Tony finally passed out from exhaustion. The god constantly had a tablet on hand, even when he returned to scouring through his magic books (and Tony couldn't help but notice that while Loki's fanatical interest in the texts had faded, that peculiar, near guilty expression on his face hadn't. In fact, if Tony were being honest with himself he'd say it had actually intensified since they sat down to talk). There were times Tony wanted to force the tablet away from him at times; constantly seeing his brother was taking its toll on Loki, and the god alternated from manic to despondent.

The worst part was that none of the information they received was good news. While Thor had a lot of ground to cover, he was covering it fast. He wasn't showing any signs of slowing down; at four days in, he did return to the Bifrost for a few hours- Tony had dared to hope that the Thunder God had given up -but then Thor came straight back and continued searching.

As the distance between Thor and them decreased, Tony knew that he and Loki should be considering a plan of action. However, the only real input Loki had offered was that trying to evade Thor would be useless, as the god undoubtedly had a way to track Loki's magic. He would need to be in close proximity, but once the god came to Malibu it'd all be over; Tony's house was saturated in magic. If they wanted to abandon the location, then maybe retreating somewhere else would work, but even then that'd only be a short term solution.

They ended up being forced into action after eight days of watching Thor traipse the country; the god was creating havoc wherever he went, and the government finally got fed up with it. Fury, as always, was the one who brought the issue to them.

"Your brother has to leave, and it seems he won't until he talks to you," the director said, his call interrupting their debate on whether or not it was worth it to illegally invade Latveria to get at Doom.

"He is not my brother. I have no business with him," Loki obstinately replied, but the mask was only skin-thick.

"But he has business with you," Fury pressured, and Loki glared back.

Tony cut in, stopping the fight before it started. "I thought SHIELD was not going to offer Loki up to Asgard. 'Look out for our own', wasn't it?"

Fury scowled at the reminder. "The Council apparently doesn't share the same sentiment. They know we have worked with Loki in the past, and have ordered we remedy the situation."

"I wasn't aware you cared what the Council thought," Tony said, already formulating plans to get Loki far away from America and Thor. If he had to abandon Malibu then fine, he could live with that. But there was no way was he letting some stuck-up bigwigs in suits sacrifice Loki just to stop Thor from impeding traffic and scaring old women.

"This is out of hand," was all Fury said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Tony's assessment.

"Too bad," Tony growled. "I'll just go fight him again, or something. We aren't-"

"I'll talk to him," Loki interrupted, voice artificially calm. Tony turned to face him in surprise, opening his mouth automatically to object, but Loki repeated solidly, "I will go and talk to him."

Tony floundered, the obvious protests- What if he hurts you? Do you want to get shipped back to Asgard? Don't be stupid! –coming to his lips but not passing. Loki had to have considered all of that already; saying it out loud would only be a needless reminder.

But Tony had to say something, so he asked the one question that really mattered. "Why?"

Loki's fear slipped through his mask, but he did not waver from his decision; he explained, "If Thor cannot find me he will send others in his stead, and they will not show me mercy."

Tony remembered Loki when he had returned from Asgard, dripping blood onto the living room floor and exhausted to the point of collapse. Loki was right; there would be no mercy from them. But the real question was: would he get any from Thor?

Fury was more willing to go along with Loki's decision. "You have three days to talk to him. SHIELD will be of assistance if you need it." He didn't say what would happen if the god changed his mind in those three days.

Loki nodded his head slightly in acceptance, and Tony couldn't figure out what to say in protest- if he even should protest. Then the screen faded back to black, leaving the two to silence.

Tony was the first to break it. "Will he try to harm you?" He had to ask, because out of everything that was the most important detail; the 'how' and 'when' could happen later.

It took Loki a moment to think about it, then he slowly shook his head. "No. I do not think he will. At least... not right away."

"That's reassuring," Tony grumbled, but he had to admit it was better than nothing.

"I have to do this. He will not stop searching otherwise," Loki said again, but he couldn't quell his nervous tic; his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. Tony knew the god tried his best to cope, but he still struggled with his mind; yet anything was better than him reverting back to being catatonic.

"I don't have to like it to realize that it's probably necessary," Tony retorted, watching as Loki's agitated twitching progressed until he looked near-epileptic. When the god showed no signs of calming, the engineer sighed. "Just go get the damn thing already."

Loki wasted no time in going over to the sliding glass door that led out of the lab and forcing it open; he whistled sharply, and a moment later Tony could hear the pounding of little footsteps from upstairs. A tan blur rocketed into view, and Coro flung himself onto Loki's leg; the cat meowed loudly, clambering up the god and demanding attention. Loki- ever spoiling that obnoxious furball of his –reached down to pick Choronzon up, holding the purring cat tightly to his chest. Fingers embedded in fur, his hands finally began to stop shaking.

Mind no longer as obstructed by fear, Loki began to talk again. "We have three days to come up with a plan in case something goes wrong, or to at least provide a reason for Thor to not take me straight back to Asgard. We won't go in unprepared."

"We?" Tony asked; it had been 'I' up until that point.

Loki gave him a flat look as if to say 'do you even need to ask that?'. "It's not like I can convince you to stay behind."

Tony had to chuckle softly at that. "No, you can't. If nothing else, I would just follow you anyway."

Loki gave him a wane little smile in return, one that assured Tony that no matter what had happened between them they were still friends.

The god moved back over into the lab with his feline friend in tow. "Three days," Loki murmured, more to himself than to Tony. The engineer knew he was thinking along the lines of 'I thought I had more time', and saw the time limit as a death sentence; Tony wouldn't let that happen.

"Then I guess you'll just have to wow me, princess," Tony joked, trying to lighten the mood. He had to believe that it'd be alright- for both of them. "Come on, you always have a plan."

Turns out Loki did have a few rudimentary plans, and by 'a few' Tony meant 'over twenty'. Apparently coming from a warrior race meant that you could think up a dozen ways to fight someone on the top of your head. Being the God of Mischief just topped that number.

There was a few plans the god had that they just did not have time for; enchanting weapons to kill an immortal took more time and skill than they had at their disposal. However, there were far more that they could use, and Loki intended to utilize every single one of them. He wasn't cutting any corners; if it came down to a fight, the god wasn't going down quietly.

But at the same time, Tony knew that Loki expected to lose; that for every spell he crafted, and every rune he carved into the Iron Man, he did not think he would be coming back when it was over. Loki's defeatist attitude was contradictory; the entire situation was contradictory.

Tony did not know Thor, and he did not know what Thor was capable of. Loki did, and the god was amassing a ridiculous amount of firepower. Yet at the same time, they were aiming to avoid violent confrontation. It didn't make sense. Did Loki want to fight Thor or not? Was Thor really as formidable and Loki was making him out to be? There was no doubt in Tony's mind that Thor was strong enough to warrant such force, but was he cruel enough?

As their deadline got closer, Toy still didn't have any answers to his questions. The only certainty was that if the need arose, he would defend Loki until the end. If Thor attacked, then Iron Man would return it with interest. But Tony knew there was a lot more going on than what appeared on the surface. He may not understand Loki's brother, but he sure as hell understood Loki; the god did not hate Thor.

Hate was a concept that Tony was intimately familiar with. He knew how it burned steadily within your chest, smoldering through every bit of good in the world until there was nothing left but a hollow husk. He knew how it gripped tight and wouldn't let go, driving people to the extremes in order to quench the uncontrollable flame inside them.

He knew it, and so he could not say that Loki hated Thor. Even if the god thought he did, Loki did not hate his family. That is why, if it came down to it, Tony himself would stop Loki from trying to kill Thor. He wouldn't let the god make the same mistake again, confusing sorrow with anger.

Then the time came to act, where just thinking about the problem wasn't enough. Tony awoke on the third day to a sense of wrongness in the air- a mix of trepidation, rage, and regret. That sludgy feeling increased when he hauled himself down to the lab to find Loki slumped in his chair, circled by an anxious Dum-E and hand still on Coro's back; he didn't look up as Tony came in, continuing to stare at the empty desk. For a moment Tony worried that the god had blanked out- which he has been expecting to happen for days –but when he drew closer the god finally shifted, tilting his head slightly to regard Tony.

"We'll leave as soon as you're ready." Loki said by way of greeting, not making any move to get up. Tony could see the exhaustion outlined in the lines on the god's face, the toll that constant worrying had taken on him, and he knew it would get worse before it could get better.

That didn't mean he was ready for it, however. "Why the hurry?" Tony asked, trying to hold off the inevitable.

"You know why," Loki replied, and Tony nodded slightly in affirmation. Delay would just allow stress to gnaw at the god's mind, chipping him away bit by bit until nothing remained. It wouldn't matter how many plans they had then; it'd be game over.

"Fair enough," Tony replied, standing beside Loki; he hesitated for another moment, wanting foolishly halt time for just a while longer, before eventually pulling himself away from the god. As he walked over towards the dock, he called out, "Do you have everything else set up?"

"Yes," the god said curtly, and Tony could hear Loki force himself to his feet. The engineer turned around just in time to see heavy leathers and metal ornaments converge around the god; it was the same armor Loki had worn when they first went to the Helicarrier, although this time he was also wearing a large, golden helmet with curving horns that heightened his already tall stature.

Tony couldn't tease the ostentatious accessory; his own armor similarly decorated in order to be intimidating. They had engraved sigils into the metal, silver lines peeking through the red and gold, and embedded crystals into the plates. With the Iron Man on, Tony could actually feel Loki's magic as it thrummed through the ports. He didn't understand everything the god had done to his suit, but Loki had assured him that it would only harm foreign entities; it was as if the suit was now a live wire.

Prepared for battle, Tony returned to Loki. Wordlessly, the god reached up to teleport them away; before the hand fell on his armor, Tony caught it.

"Wait," he said, and Loki looked at him in confusion. "Listen to me," Tony ordered, pulling the hand to rest over his arc reactor. "It'll be alright. I won't let anything happen to you."

Loki stared at the hand bathed in blue light, and then he lifted his gaze to search Tony's face for that glimmer of truth he always seemed so desperate to find. He moved to pull his hand back, but Tony held tight; he knew the god could remove his hand if he wanted, but after a moment Loki relaxed, hand resting over Tony's metaphorical heart.

"There are limits to what you can do," Loki murmured; Tony heard 'if something goes wrong, it isn't your fault.'

"Not when it comes to you," Tony replied, gripping the hand tighter.

Briefly Tony thought that Loki was going to reply; the god opened his mouth slightly- a goodbye that Tony didn't want to hear waiting there -but then he stopped himself. In a wash of white, they were teleported to eight hundred miles away.

-o-o-o-

Back and forth he paced, alternating between a frantic dash and a morose shuffle. Faster his steps would carry him, until he felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin. Slower his steps would carry him, until he felt like his mind was rotting within his skull.

Outside of the furrow his feet had worn, Tony stood tacitly; the man's last few attempts at conversation received nothing more than anxious spans of silence. Loki was grateful Tony had given up trying to talk to him; it wasn't that he didn't want to talk to Tony- he desperately craved a distraction, or at the very least to talk to Tony one last time before things fell apart -but the riot inside of his mind would not quiet enough for him to think about anything other than Thor. Thor. _Thor_.

Thor, with his perfection and charm: the smile that blocked out the sun and left poor, forgotten Loki in the shadows. Thor, with his words of forgiveness and love: ready to accept Loki's flaws and calling him brother even now.

Thor, with his _lies_.

Once again Loki's pacing reached fever pitch, constantly running but getting nowhere. Every quick turn made his cloak snap out behind him, and the metal plates sung a depressing dirge. The tattoo of his footsteps echoed his thoughts, a constant cadence of 'Thor, Thor, Thor.'

Hating the tempo, he started to slow down again. The new tempo just brought more words to the mix: a sequence of two steps whispered 'Jotun' and 'monster', while three crowed 'murderer'. Trying to force the sounds to stop, Loki's aggressive pace reverted back into a dragging shamble.

"Are you sure he's coming?" Tony asked, adding his own voice to the ditty.

'Without a doubt,' Loki thought, but he did not speak out loud; his voice was caught somewhere deep within him- between the doubt, longing, and keening ache of betrayal.

"He's sure taking his sweet time getting here. You'd think swinging a hammer around would be faster," Tony continued, trying in vain to lighten the mood. His words hung awkwardly in the quiet, answered only by the steady tempo of 'Thor, Jotun, monster, murderer'. Loki resisted the urge to scream at his mind to just shut up and leave him alone.

(Just like it had in the void.)

Six more rounds of back-forth between the two trees passed before Tony spoke again, this time serious. "Everything will be okay. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you."

Loki found Tony's words to be nothing more than a beautiful lie; they would never be true. The man could try all he wanted, but even if they somehow managed to stop Thor today, the God of Thunder was only the beginning; there was still the rest of Asgard to contend with. That was something that was simply beyond Tony's ability.

Unlike before, where some patience and soothing words was enough to make things better again, there was no escaping from the consequences of Loki's past. He tried to, but no matter how much he suffered it still found him in the end. Enough is enough; he's tired of running away.

"Loki-" Tony began, but a faint whir distracted Loki from any words that may have followed.

The god stopped pacing mid-step, eyes snapping to some unseen point on the horizon. Loki's sudden change in demeanor caught Tony's attention; he too went still, following Loki's gaze even though he could not yet hear the distant sound- the sound that, as it got closer and closer to their position, was unmistakable: Mjolnir.

Loki straightened, standing ramrod straight in the middle of the clearing. His fists clenched until they were on the verge of drawing blood, and he breathed in a thick, quivering breath. Within his mind, he forced out the fog and insecurity, slamming up walls and ignoring the monsters that lurked along their edges.

A mendacious, confident mask fell upon Loki, and his body relaxed. Tony came up alongside him, Iron Man already concealed behind an unyielding mask, and stood supportively as they stared at where blue met green. There was no need for Tony to ask what was going on; nothing else could so easily force Loki to revert to lies, lest the truth drag him down into the darkness.

Thor had arrived.

Loki could pinpoint the instant that Tony finally heard Thor, the other god making a ruckus as he smashed his way through heaven-reaching boughs. He did not need to see Tony's face to know that the same fear screaming inside of his mind would also be reflected there. Weapon slots hissed open along Tony's arms and shoulders, revealing the deadly artillery inside.

The sight did little to comfort Loki; if it came down to a fight, he wasn't sure that Iron Man's firepower would be enough. Not necessarily to stop Thor- Loki had little hopes of that anyway- but to protect Tony. Heavily equipped or not, the suit was still just a machine. Were it not for the magic of Yggdrasil coursing strongly trough Tony's veins, Loki would never have brought him along; the man could not suffer for Loki's mistakes.

While Loki would have wanted nothing more than for the man to be beside him, he would not have risked Tony's life. The apple simply allowed the god to indulge in his selfishness, putting Tony in the line of fire for matters that did not concern him. He should have contented himself with knowing that if he did die at least there was someone left who might finally mourn him.

Then Thor came into view, with his bright red cape and spinning hammer, and Loki's mind temporarily seized to function; reality was obscured by a violent upheaval of remembered voices.

"_You are not my brother!_"

"_Whatever I have done to lead you to this, I am sorry._"

"_Never doubt that I love you._"

The final, desperate shout of "_No!_" before he fell beyond the reach of the stars.

Cold metal brushed lightly against Loki's arm, drawing him back down to reality. He leaned into the touch just slightly, drawing what strength he could from Tony's very presence, and then drew away; he stood with an imposing façade before his not-brother.

Still in the air, Thor's bright blue eyes locked onto Loki immediately; the Thunder God twisted the hammer downwards, sending him colliding with the ground across from where Loki stood. When the dust cleared it revealed Thor in a kneeling position, fist punched into the earth and head raised defiantly. With the grace of a king he rose to his feet, and Thor's usually carefree expression was distorted by a heavy frown.

"Hello, Thor," Loki greeted disdainfully, his mask cemented into place; even though Loki wanted to flee- teleport across the world to live like a beast before the hounds -just so he never had to talk to his brother again, he stayed firmly in place. Loki, God of Chaos, was _not_ a coward.

Actually hearing words from Loki's mouth seemed to catch Thor off guard; it was as if he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say now his long forgotten, envious 'little brother' actually stood before him. Thor's eyes flickered to Tony, but after finding no answer there he was quick to disregard the man; returning to stare at his brother, Thor apparently found righteous anger to be the easier route.

Taking a threatening step forwards, Mjolnir raised brazenly, Thor shouted, "Loki! You will return what you have stolen!"

All he got in response was a mirthless laugh and crooked grin. "Is that anyway to greet your _brother_?" Loki asked, his last word a bitter, hateful hiss; there was no doubt that he meant he was anything but. "And here I thought you may have missed me, after I've been away for so long."

Loki let the vindictive amusement- or at least that was what he called it, for if he actually thought about what that churning emotion was it would untangle the lies he had encased himself with –at Thor's stricken expression chase away the void that gnashed at the bars inside his mind.

Odin's son was quick to recover, pushing aside the fake sorrow and taking another step forwards.

(It had to be fake; Loki had no one- no one to save him, no one to believe in him, no one to love him. It had just been him, all alone without ever knowing why. But now he knew better, and he wouldn't be fooled again.)

Out of the corner of his eye Loki saw Tony shift in response to Thor's advance, but other than that he stayed neutral. Loki half-wished the man would attack anyway, like a replay of eight years ago; Iron Man would be the Destroyer, and Thor would finally see what it feels like to be helpless. Tony didn't, and it was Loki who felt trapped; Thor remained several paces away, but that distant was insignificant when the God of Thunder was already a realm too close.

"Do not turn this on me!" Thor boomed. "I do not know what scheme you have been pursuing all these years, but it stops now!"

"Scheme?" Loki asked, somehow managing to come across as mocking instead of hysterical. How he wished that he had just been sitting somewhere scheming for all of those years; instead he spent them being shattered into thousands of pieces, and it was only through some sort of miracle that he escaped to be painstakingly rebuilt into this mockery of his former self. "Took you long enough to figure it out," he lied through his teeth. "And here I thought you'd be hunting me down after you _tossed_ me into an abyss."

"Tossed you…?" Thor echoed confusedly, as if Loki's anger was not justified.

'He's deceiving you', Loki's mind insisted vehemently, ignoring the fact that Thor was never that skilled at deception. Thor couldn't possibly love him anymore, and daring to hope so would only make the letdown worse in the end.

"Brother, we thought you dead!"

"Obviously I am not," Loki seethed. "You'll have to try better next time if you wish to succeed."

"I grieved for you!" Thor shouted in reply, so open and honest.

Loki couldn't stop himself; furious and abandoned, he shouted back, "If you cared, then you should have come for me!" Again Thor was disconcerted by the harsh statement, and Loki couldn't stand it. "I see no need for you to be here," he said, forcing the subject to change before his brother could unravel the meaning of those impulsive words. "I will not return what I have taken."

Just as Loki predicted, Thor easily accepted Loki's haughty tone as genuine, not as a cover for the sorrow that lay beneath. But that wasn't a surprise; he always had, and always will. Riled up, Thor roared at him, "You are overstepping your bounds, brother! What you are trying to do is forbidden! I command that you must stop this foolishness before it is too late!"

The cackle that fell from Loki's lips was less than sane, and he was vaguely aware of Tony shifting anxiously by him; the rest of his focus was on Thor, who tightened his hold on Mjolnir and regarded Loki as if he were nothing more than a stranger. 'Brother' indeed; Thor knew _nothing_ about him.

"Too late?" Loki asked, breathless. He laughed again, the same high, deranged sound bubbling forth. "Oh, I assure you," he purred, "I've already past that point."

There was no redemption left for him; not just with the apple- his magic was so irreversibly intertwined with Tony that even the greatest sorcerer could not undo it -but _everything_; even if guilt tormented Loki's mind, he could not take back the past. He could only move forwards and hope that one day he stopped adding regrets.

Comprehension dawned in Thor's eyes. "Loki, tell me it is not true," the other god pleaded, but Loki refused to listen to him.

(He had to remind himself that the concern wasn't real; the horrid ache lodged deep within his chest was.)

"Certainly, but would you believe me?" Loki asked with a Cheshire grin. Under the ruckus in his brain, a little voice of reason was shrieking for him to steer the conversation away; the term 'Idunn's apple' was just a few words away, and once it was spoken there would be no taking it back. He could not let Tony know of his manipulation, not when he needed the man the most. Yet that voice was drowned out, reason sunk beneath waves of irrationality.

"Stealing our peoples' most sacred text wasn't enough for you?" Thor shouted, his voice a mirror image of Tony's when Loki had come home with the aforementioned book. "Using one of Idunn's apples is forbidden! You know that!"

"I don't care!" Loki replied heatedly, but he felt a sharp trill of fear flash through him. Not at threat of punishment- that had never been his concern. He could only face execution once, after all – but at what he knew without a doubt would follow.

Right on cue, Loki could hear Tony's muttered inquiry of, "Apple?"

Just like that, the situation spiraled out of his control.

Thor also heard the quiet question, and he finally turned to consider the man who accompanied his brother. Recognition flared in those blue eyes, and Thor tilted his head slightly as he took in all of the runes that decorated the armor; to someone from Asgard, it was as if Loki had engraved his signature onto the metal. It wouldn't be hard to deduce the truth from there, even for someone as utterly dull as Thor.

'No, no, no,' Loki's chanted inside the confines of his mind, but not a single word made it out; he knew his voice would betray his guilt.

In the end Loki's silence did not matter; Thor assembled the pieces, realizing exactly what Loki had meant when he said he used Idunn's apple.

"Why, brother?" Thor asked, pointing harshly at Tony. "What could possibly be so special about him that you would do this?" His hand shook, just slightly, but Loki saw. "You could be executed for this!"

"I don't care!" Loki repeated, being the one to step forwards this time; he stood in front of Tony, shielding him from Thor's accusing glare. The man had a different idea; he moved out from behind Loki and reversed their positions, standing between the two gods.

"Alright, Point Break, two things," Tony said, unable to stand idle any longer. "One, I definitely am special enough for whatever it is. And two." He took another step forwards, raising his arm until his glowing palm was only a few feet from Thor's chest. "_No one_ is executing the princess."

Tony's display of devotion only confirmed Thor's assumption, and that hopeless expression of his deepened. "You should not have done this," he futilely insisted. "I can only defend you so much."

"I don't need you to defend me," Loki refuted automatically. "I never did." He consciously avoided answering the other statement; there was no choice, he _had_ to do it… but should he have?

"Should not have done what?" Tony asked, still standing protectively before the god; he tilted his head slightly to regard Loki while continuing to keep a close watch on Thor.

Loki's insides clenched in a panic, one that rivaled that of meeting his brother again. He imagined the love Tony now showed being twisted into hatred at the truth of what his friend has done to him.

(Loki mutely agreed with Thor; he should not have done it.)

"Nothing. It is of no consequence to you," Loki lied, his eyes locked on his not-brother so he did not have to look upon his own betrayal.

"Of no consequence?" Thor asked, unwilling to drop the subject. "Loki, what you did is one of the greatest taboos in all of the Nine Realms!"

That statement was enough to push Tony's budding curiosity over the edge; Loki fell under suspicion. Lowering his hand slightly, Tony asked, "Loki?" The god's name was spoken slowly, as if Tony feared the answer he would receive. "What did you do?"

Loki didn't want to answer, but the stares of Tony and Thor- two people who had meant to much to him (still meant so much to him) -bore down on him. There was no where to escape except to retreat inwards, and pitch black sludge clawed its way up to greet him.

How convenient it must have been for Odin, Loki thought distantly, to surrender to the Odinsleep when faced with a difficult question. Loki wanted to hide away as well- forget all about his troubles -but he fought against that urge; he refused to emulate Odin's cowardice, and refusing to answer now would only assure that Thor did it in his place. If Tony had to learn the truth, then he would hear it from Loki.

Loki's shame- the remorse and guilt he had continually repressed, but could no longer ignore -prevented him from meeting Tony's gaze as he explained, "I only did what I had to. I..."

Despite his intent to continue, the words died in Loki's throat; his excuses had made sense in his mind, but when it came to admitting them outloud his actions just seemed selfish and misguided.

"He does not know?" Thor interrupted, not willing to just stay out of the conversation for a moment. Their accusing expressions were like walls closing in around him, and it was hard to hear anything over the "_No, Loki_" echoing in his ears.

Yet it wasn't loud enough to drown out Thor's shouting; "Brother, are you mad?" just added to the discord.

"What do I not know?" Tony persisted; Loki wished he could just cover his ears and close his eyes. The god was like a deer caught between the crosshairs, unable to run even though his every nerve screamed to.

"I had to do it..." He repeated, mind stuck in a rut; he just kept falling down, down, down. This was not how he had imagined their confrontation to go: he had been ready to fight and have his life taken in the process. He was ready to die and let things come to an end.

But through all of that- his defeat and execution -he would have had Tony by his side. Loki did not expect for his lies to come to the light so quickly. He should have- they always did when it came to those he loved -but he hadn't, and now he truly had no one.

"Loki, this is insanity! Expunge the immortality from him and come back home! If you stop resisting I can still fix this!" Thor shouted as Loki's world started to slip out from under his feet.

"Immortality?" The pieces began to align for Tony as they tumbled out of control for Loki. "Loki… what is Idunn's apple?" The man asked, but the god knew he had already figured it out. It didn't matter if he replied; the truth was already known.

So Loki did reply, if only to try and convince himself that he wasn't ashamed- that he had made the right choice. "With the proper spell, Idunn's apple can grant immortality to the one who consumes it," Loki quoted from the grimoire, knowing the man would derive the rest.

"But I didn't…" Tony began, and then he abruptly fell silent. Loki could imagine the look of horror that laid beneath the mask. "The smoothie. There was apple in the smoothie."

Loki just bowed his head slightly, confirming Tony's statement; the man fell into a shocked silence, frozen in place between Loki and Thor. Loki couldn't help but think it was like Tony didn't know who the greater enemy was anymore.

Thor jumped on their disunity, taking the opportunity to try and convince Loki again. "Come home with me," he said; Loki could scarcely hear him over the deafening roar within. "We can still undo what you have done, and-"

"I can't!" Loki shouted, furious at Thor, at himself- at Tony, for not understanding why he had to give the man the apple. There was no choice; he _had_ to. "Don't you understand, you dullard? I can never go back! Not with Asgard, and not with Tony!"

The columns holding up his mind began to collapse, falling victim to the siege of rolling darkness; everything was getting blotted out, and he had nowhere to run. It started to drown him.

His brother stared at him, and after a moment he seemed to realize something he hadn't before. "Brother," Thor began, speaking softly as if he were talking to a frightened animal; he took a step forwards, lowering his hammer.

"No!" Loki screamed at him, stumbling back a step. He would not be pitied!

Magic flooded into the god's hands, and he latched onto the quickest spell to come to mind- one that wasn't already submerged beyond his grasp. The rest of his careful plans, spells he had spent days crafting for this moment, were obfuscated by the fog.

With a roar, Loki flung a spear of ice at Thor; the frenzied shot narrowly missed colliding with Tony's head. Not expecting the sudden attack, Thor was slow to counter; he barely managed to swing Mjolnir in time, and the shattered tip of the spear sliced through his red cape. Another javelin was quick to follow, and frost laced across the ground from its origin at Loki's feet.

(Jotuns were monsters, and Loki was no exception.)

"Loki, stop it!" Someone shouted in the background, but the god did not listen; he lunged forwards, ice thickening along his arms to form wicked scythes. They collided with Thor's hammer, cracking and chipping at the impact; a new layer of ice replaced the descending shards.

Thor leapt away, defending himself but not attacking. "Loki!" He pleaded, but that only made the other god angrier; Loki's mind flashed back to that day on the bridge.

"_I've changed._"

"_So have I. Now..._"

"Fight me!" Loki cried, launching more translucent spears at Thor while leaping into the air to push the Thunder God back. "Or am I still so beneath your notice?"

Encased in ice, Loki's weight was enough to send Thor down to a knee; Mjolnir was held over the god's head, a final defense against seeking blades. Yet the hammer was still not put on the offensive, and Loki growled deep in his throat; ice started to creep off of his flesh to coat the ancient weapon, and when Thor refused to pull his hands away they too were consumed.

The God of Thunder grit his teeth against the frostbite. "Brother," Thor attempted again, the one word thick with emotion; Loki dismissed it, and the jagged flow of ice did not slow. "You are not in your right mind. I do not wish to fight you- not again."

"I'm not your brother," Loki hissed, ripping one of his arms free from the encasing of ice. He raised it above his head, letting layers of ice build on the edge until it was razor-sharp. There was no little voice left inside to resist him, to reason with him; everything had suffocated in **black**. All that remained was madness.

Loki let his arm fall, blind to Thor's anguished face and deaf to someone shouting his name. But before the crystalline blade could connect, something blasted into his side; Loki was flung across the clearing, the ice exploding into a flurry of snow. He slammed roughly into the ground, and it took far too long for his thoughts to fall back in line. When they did, Loki sprung back onto his feet; a chill settled around him, ready to attack whoever interfered.

Then his eyes fell on red and gold -not just one or the other, but both curiously intertwined- and he faltered. Something was shouting at him from within the depths of his mind, speaking of familiarity and devotion.

Sound hit him- Loki hadn't even realized it was gone in the first place -and that beautiful blur, the beacon that rose from the depths of the void, drew closer as it spoke. "-not yourself. Things are fucked up right now; I get that. But you need to calm down before you screw up even more. Killing Thor isn't going to fix anything, and you know that."

A name fluttered just outside of Loki's reach, and he had the strangest thought that it, more than anything else, was important. Even as he rapidly approached the bottom, the world fading out around him, he felt like he needed that name. As the being stepped closer, arms held out in surrender while great pillars of ice rose and fell around Loki, the god fought to make it click.

Then it did, just as the darkness killed everything.

"Tony," Loki murmured, before his mind fell away completely; he collapsed lifelessly, body nothing more than a puppet without strings.

* * *

Note: Since I'm completely broke, this chapter is my friend's birthday present. So happy birthday Brittney. (I actually made her proofread this for me, but shhh, not the point. It still counts as a gift.)


	14. Chapter 14

"_Threw you the obvious and you flew with it on your back,  
A name in your recollection, down among a million same.  
Difficult not to feel a little bit disappointed, and passed over...  
You don't see me._

_But I threw you the obvious, just to see if there's more behind the_  
_Eyes of a fallen angel, eyes of a tragedy._  
_Here I am expecting just a little bit too much from the wounded,_  
_But I see, see through it all- see through, see you._"

-o-o-o-

There was an instant in which time was suspended; everything seemed to happen as if in slow motion, while Tony himself was frozen in place. Even as Loki's mind imploded, the god's knees buckling and his body careening to the ground, Tony could not move. Behind him, Thor shouted his brother's name, but he too remained trapped in time; both of them were helpless to stop Loki's descent.

Except for it wasn't 'Loki' anymore, was it? The god had retreated deep within until all that was left was an empty shell- the same one that Tony had met what seemed like a lifetime ago. As the body became slack, gravity pulling it down, Tony couldn't help but think that it wasn't Loki. It looked like him: pale skin, long black hair, and empty green eyes that saw nothing. There was also the god's concealing armor and ridiculous helmet- slipping free as he tumbled -that were not as familiar but no less defining.

'No,' Tony thought, feeling oddly disconnected as Loki fell. 'It looks like him, but it will never _be_ him.'

And then the body hit the ground with a resounding thud, and time reasserted itself alongside the echoing sound. Tony's limbs were no longer paralyzed in shock; he leapt for Loki, habit overtaking his doubts. At that same moment Thor moved as well, but Tony beat him to the fallen god's side. He hesitated for only a split second- a vestige of Loki's voice whispered in his mind, "_Idunn's apple can grant immortality to the one who consumes it_" -before he got to his knees and reached for Loki.

Thor arrived just as Tony flipped the god over, revealing green eyes that stared blindly at the sky. As Tony checked that Loki was otherwise unharmed he didn't need to look up to know that Thor was confounded, unable to equate the fiery Loki with the catatonic body; the sight was still jarring to Tony, despite the fact that this was the state in which he first met Loki. This silent, unresponsive body was a far cry from the actual Loki, who had far too much heart- who reacted strongly to things around him, led by the emotions he pretended didn't exist. Who had gone behind Tony's back and did the unthinkable, all because he couldn't stand to face those tumultuous fears and worries. It was selfishness under the guise of caring.

"What is wrong with him?" Thor demanded, jolting Tony out of his downward spiral; he had momentarily forgotten that Thor was still there. He would have found that fact concerning if not for the fact that he no longer had any doubt about Thor's feelings for his brother- not after that last display. The god, while he came with bad tidings, was not the enemy here.

Tony struggled to formulate a response, the words he needed slipping in between blares of '_lies'_ and '_betrayal'_ and '_irreversible'_. "He's…" The man started, but the sentence derailed in his mind. In one direction it became 'he's catatonic because his brain is like a bag of cats' and in the other it broke down to 'he's selfish, and all of this is his fault'.

The delay irked the god, and with a voice that was ten percent imperious and ninety percent worried Thor commanded, "Man of Iron, you will-"

"Give me a second, Goldilocks!" Tony snapped, feeling far too exhausted to bother with diplomacy at that moment. The thoughts within his head were chaotic; they whiplash from concerned to outraged, depleting his strength in a way he hadn't thought possible.

When Thor actually listened and shut the hell up, the resulting lull was a small blessing; Tony inhaled slowly, willing the world to follow his lead and just take a breather. Everything was fucked up, and Tony wasn't even sure where to begin unraveling the faults.

However, there was too much going on for him to take the time needed; it was only a minute before Thor shifted anxiously, moving around Tony to get a clearer look at his brother. Tony stared at Loki as well, but only because he didn't have the power to look away. He was captivated by that execrable serenity and the egocentric ideas it buried.

The whirlwind of thoughts in Tony's head- moving frenziedly but never reaching a final destination -flashed back to the hysterical shout of, '_I _had_ to_!' He cursed loudly, uncaring of his sole audience, and punched the ground. It did nothing to ease the clamor, so he lifted his fist and slammed it down again.

"God damn it!"

Tony could feel Thor's gaze shift to him, prickling along the back of his neck. He cursed again, this time mentally; at this rate, Thor was going to think that Tony was completely off his rocker too. Then again, maybe Tony really _was_ insane, completely out of his mind. He had to be, putting his trust in a deranged god.

Yet when the god spoke next, his words were a far cry from what Tony expected. "My brother may have been wrong," Thor said softly, sounding not judgmental but sympathetic. "The Nine Realms are full of mages. Certainly one of them could remove the magic from your body."

For a brief moment Tony let those words inspire hope, but then he ruthlessly suppressed the notion; it would never be true. "Do you really think he'd be wrong about something like that?" He asked, resigning himself to the harsh reality now so that he had nothing left to lose.

"I apologize for any harm his actions have caused you," Thor answered instead, because they both knew the answer to that rhetorical question was a resounding 'no'. Loki knew magic; if he said it couldn't be undone then that was fact, and nothing they did could change it.

"Not to be rude or anything, but I couldn't care less about your apology. This is between him and I." Or would be, once Loki awakened, but Tony had no idea how long that would be; it had been a long time since the god had gone utterly blank. This could have brought them back to square one for all he knew, like he didn't have enough to worry about.

Unable to stand the deadened stare any longer, Tony slipped one of his gloves off and ran his palm across Loki's eyes. When he pulled back the god's eyes were closed, as if he were merely sleeping; there were no traces of the previous rage or anguish. Even that persistent downturn of the god's lips had been erased once its source had come to light.

Tony found it horribly ironic now that everything made sense; what he thought he had understood before had merely been the surface. Loki played him like a fool, and while had Tony suspected something was going on all month he was ignorant to the magnitude of it. That, or he knew all along Loki was deceiving him, could see the hints everywhere he turned, and yet he chose to ignore them.

It was Stane all over again, and the parallel pierced down into Tony's core to unleash memories he had kept locked down: cold terror as his body was paralyzed, gripping numbness as his arc reactor was pried from his chest, and the callous words that denied any remorse. _Those_ are the feelings of betrayal, and Tony knows them all too well.

At the same time, he also understood that there was a huge fundamental difference between the two treacheries; Stane sought to kill Tony, while Loki sought to make Tony live forever.

_Forever_. Tony couldn't even begin to fathom how long an eternity was, let alone a few decades. Of course, 'immortal' only meant 'a few dozen millennia' which... greatly exceeded the mere seventy yeas Tony had been expecting. Even Loki's young age of one thousand and something seemed like a ridiculously long time to be alive. That Tony would also live that long...

The full implications of being immortal hadn't even sunk in yet, but what he did know was more than enough to make him furious. Not because he didn't think he could handle it- Tony Stark was nothing if not adaptable -but because it was a choice made without his consent. Deceit was not something Tony Stark could take lightly, even if it was Loki- _especially_ since it was Loki.

But despite how reasonable his rage was, he still loved the god; if nothing else, Tony would honor that by finishing what they set out to accomplish today.

Tony shoved himself to his feet, spinning away so he didn't have to look at the unconscious god any longer. "Alright, Hammer Time. You want answers?" He asked, spreading his arms wide to draw the Thunder God's attention. "Then let's talk."

Thor started to ask something immediately, but Tony cut him off with the wave of a hand.

"Not here," he stated, hyperaware of the lying god right behind him. "You in the mood for a walk? I want to go for a walk."

Without waiting for a reply, Tony stalked away from the two gods and into the tree line. There was a slight delay before Thor's loud steps followed his own, the god quickly catching up with his longer stride.

"What about my brother?" Thor asked, craning his neck to keep an eye on Loki while trying to match Tony's brisk pace. "Surely we cannot just leave him there."

"He'll be fine." Tony said, not stopping his march that brought him farther and farther away from Loki. Unconscious or not, the God of Chaos was more than capable of riling emotions. Tony had a feeling that talking to Thor would go a lot smoother if Loki's presence didn't aid more fuel to an already blazing fire.

Thor wasn't totally convinced- it must have been hard to walk away from Loki after finally finding him -but the lure of answers proved stronger; Thor left his brother behind. Nevertheless, the god wasted no more time in asking, "What is wrong with him?"

"These days, I feel like the better question would be 'what isn't wrong with him?'." Tony muttered and then, before Thor could shout at him, he answered, "His mind cut out. It happens."

While he talked Tony began angling them to the right; despite his nonchalance, the man intended to keep them in route around where Loki was lying. The sound of their steps would warn off anything looking to approach. He wouldn't risk the god, but… he just didn't want to be close to him right now.

"'It _happens_?'" Thor repeated incredulously. "Man of Metal, my brother collapsed! That is not something so easily dismissed!"

"Blondie, I've lived with him for a year and a half now. While I know that probably isn't long for you, trust me when I say that Loki blanking out is normal these days."

An aghast expression fell over the god's face, and he looked as if he wanted to run back to his brother's side and do something awfully overdramatic- like cry and wail over Loki's immobile body. Tony, on the other hand, appeared indifferent; the mask of Iron Man shielded his own strife. The callous words that followed did nothing to ease that perceived stoicism.

"If you want to freak out about it, you're a few years too late."

Thor returned his attention to Tony- though not without glancing forlornly into the trees one last time -and tilted his head slightly as he stared into the mask. The god's blue eyes were keen and piercing, just like Loki's, and Tony felt as if Thor could see beyond the mask anyway.

"What is your relation to Loki, human? It is true I haven't seen my brother in nearly a decade, but the last time we talked he was not…fond of mortals."

Tony's mind instantly brought up photos of that decimated little town in New Mexico, the buildings destroyed with abandon. "No, he probably wasn't," the man agreed, but then new images flashed to his mind: Loki sitting with him at the table, content to look no different from Midgardians. Loki regaling the other Avengers with stories. Loki covered in blood after he risked his life to save Tony from Doom.

"Then again," Tony continued, "I imagine seven years was more than enough to change his mind."

"That is where you are wrong," Thor refuted. "Seven years is nothing to an Aesir…" The god hesitated infinitesimally. "Or a Jotun. My brother is obstinate to a fault. His opinion would not have changed in such a short time."

Tony was also quite stubborn, but it only took three months for him to do a complete one-eighty. Those three months just happened to feel never-ending.

"Seven years can last an eternity when every second is torture," Tony said, hating how difficult it was to distance himself from Loki's predicament. Each surge of sympathy made him angry- he shouldn't feel sorry for the god who lied to him -and that resulting anger made him feel guilty- Loki was his friend, and he was suffering. It was a continuous cycle, with no goal but to muddle Tony's mind.

The implication of Tony's words caused Thor to halt abruptly; Tony went a few more feet before stopping as well, turning slightly to regard the smoldering god. Thor was clutching his hammer tightly, his face screwed in rage.

"Somebody dared to lay a hand on my brother?" Thor boomed, his hand strangling the hammer while his face twisted in rage. "Who are they? I shall slay them myself!"

The tempestuous display was met with impassiveness; Tony shrugged and said, "If you want to commit patricide, go ahead. I doubt it would change anything."

"Patricide?" Thor was confused for a moment, but it flashed back to ire. "My father has not seen Loki in years! That-" Thor waved his free hand in the general direction of where they had come, lacking the words to sum up the vast wrongness that was Loki's catatonia. When he spoke next his voice was strangled with sorrow. "_That_ is not his doing!"

"You're right. Odin didn't make him like that. At least not directly," Tony said, his chill subduing Thor's fire. Confusion was quickly becoming Thor's default emotion, and his wide eyes beseeched Tony to explain himself. Distantly Tony thought that Loki would be distraught if he knew that Tony was telling Thor about what the god perceived as weakness, but…Tony can't say he felt too conflicted about it. It was a paltry transgression in comparison to what Loki had done.

So Tony continued, willing to tell Thor exactly what had happened to his brother. "That, what you just saw, is the product of seven years spent inside of an empty void."

Horror crumpled Thor's features. "By the nines…" He swore, voice like gravel. "We had thought Loki to be dead. We didn't…" Guilt mixed into the despair. "I never thought that he could be trapped in there, still _alive_."

It was obvious that Loki's plea of 'you should have come for me' now made horrible sense to Thor, and as irrational as it was he felt culpable. Soothing that regret, however, was not Tony's job; he refused to offer meaningless statements of comfort, and when he continued speaking he did nothing to soften the blow.

"I was the one that found Loki when he fell out of the void, and I've been looking out for him ever since. Anything you see now- all of those details that are glaringly wrong -is nothing compared to before. He spent weeks looking like a corpse. He was starved and catatonic."

Each word was like one of Loki's ice spears, sliding mercilessly into Thor's heart. Mjolnir slipped from slack fingers, and if Tony thought the god would do something dramatic before that was nothing compared to now; he was sure that if he wasn't providing information the god would have hightailed it to his brother already.

Tony was unmoved by the god's distress; if anything, he only became more vindictive. "It was weeks until he was finally cognizant enough to talk, and once he was lucid he couldn't even look out the windows without having a fit." The memory burned, and so did the fear that meeting Thor could have pushed Loki back to that point. It may be a selfish thing to think, but Tony just couldn't go through that again. "You think he looks bad right now? That's _nothing_."

The last word rung loudly, and Thor flinched slightly. He had to open and close his mouth a few times before he could manage to reiterate, "I didn't know." The way in which he said it told Tony that it wasn't said to relieve the god of his guilt, but to punish him because he didn't know; he should have known.

"No one did," Tony replied bluntly. "But it happened, and there are consequences. Loki isn't the same person he was, Thor, and he never will be. You need to accept that." Loki too needed to accept that there was no going back. The only way was forwards.

"I…" Thor stumbled over his words, out his depth; Tony knew this was nothing like he had been expecting (it certainly didn't happened the way Tony had thought it would). The God of Thunder had come to take his brother home, to battle if need be, and then everything would be right again; it was a naïve dream. "Loki is still my brother. He shall come back home with me. We can help him," the god insisted desperately.

"That is where you are wrong," Tony said, throwing the god's previous words back at him. "If you make him go back there he will _never_ recover. Loki will remain broken and insane. Is that what you really want to do to him? Do you 'love' him so much that you'd ruin him?"

Tony hadn't meant them to, but his words paralleled the burning question he needed to ask Loki: did Loki 'love' Tony so much that he'd betray him? If that was love then it was selfish and vile, and Tony wanted no part of it…

And yet here he was, defending Loki despite that. It would be easy to just let Thor whisk the god away- to run away from his problems and never look back -but Tony couldn't do that. Maybe once upon a time he would have been content with that, but no matter how angry he was Tony just could not do that to Loki.

"Do not make mockery of my love for my brother!" Thor roared, his hammer flying back into his hand. "I only wish to do what is best for him!"

"No you don't," Tony denied, unconcerned in the face of the god's anger. If he was going to get smashed the god would have done it already- of course that could easily change if Tony kept pushing Thor, but he has never been good at self-restraint.

"You want what is best for you and think by extension it must be what is best for him," he accused, bearing the full brunt of Thor's glare. "Let me give you a bit of a reality check: it isn't."

'The same goes for you, Loki,' Tony thought bitterly, as if the catatonic god could hear him. 'I don't want to live forever. You were selfish, and you know it.'

Loki, unsurprisingly, was silent.

Thor too said nothing for a long time. His expression warred between outraged and contrite, his pride unwilling to bend in the face of reason. Eventually that pride did fall, and his shoulders slumped under the weight of his choices. With heavy steps the god made his way to where Tony stood, and as he drew even he admitted, "Loki's well-being is not my only concern, though I wish it were. He has committed foul crimes against Asgard, and as king it is my responsibility to make sure he is properly punished."

Tony, who had begun to walk when Thor did, stumbled slightly in shock. King? He shot the god a bewildered look, but Thor was contemplating the ground with a pensive frown and did not notice. _Thor_ was the king of Asgard?

Loki had been adamant that it was his father they would ultimately have to contend with; neither of them even considered that Odin would have stepped down. Judging by Thor's lack of reaction, the status change was not a recent development. If Loki's brother was on the throne… Well, that simplified things at least. Although it also made this moment more dire than Tony had thought, because opposing Thor would be the equivalent of waging war against Asgard; it would be tantamount to suicide.

The only viable course of action left to take was to ensure that Thor allowed Loki to remain on Earth; Tony would not let failure be an option.

"Hasn't he been punished enough?" He asked, mind racing to find any argument that would convince the god.

Thor's pained expression said 'yes', but it wasn't enough to convince him. Steadfast he replied, "That is not my place to decide. Loki must be judged in Asgard. Though I wish to assist him, he is still bound by the laws."

"Yeah, because nearly chopping his arm off counts as 'assisting' him…" Tony couldn't help but mutter, thinking of the bone-deep gash in Loki's arm after he had returned from the other realm. Just a month in Asgard had nearly killed the god; the thought of Loki spending the rest of his life locked away there- confined to a jail cell or worse –made Tony's stomach clench. Someone torturing Loki was a harrowing thought on its own; combined with Loki's instability, it was downright terrifying.

"Do not accuse me for things over which I had no control," Thor growled, apparently well-versed in the story of Loki's escape. "My countrymen may have been overzealous in their pursuit, but they were obeying our laws."

"And those are the laws you want to subject your brother to? Who has, might I add, severe PTSD." And probably a dozen other things Tony didn't even know the term for. "Now I'm not a psychologist, but something tells me bringing him back there is a really bad idea. Like 'his brain will become a veggie' bad."

"I don't see what vegetables have to do with my brother's mentality," Thor said; his confused expression would have been hilarious were it not for how serious their conversation was. As it was, the god shook off his incomprehension and got back on topic. "Loki is strong. He will endure the sentence the council gives him."

"And if they decide to kill him? He'll endure death, too?"

"I won't let that happen," Thor responded confidently, and yet Tony could see the cracks appearing in the god's resolve. It probably wasn't enough to get the god to just forget about Loki's crimes completely, but Tony was sure if he kept needling he could at least secure more time.

"So you won't let them kill him, but you're willing to let them ruin him?" Thor made to reply, but Tony cut him off. "No, listen to me. If Loki needs to appear before the court or whatever, fine. But if you make him go back there now, you _will_ ruin him. There is no 'if' about it. Could you really live with that on your conscience?"

Thor looked stricken. "My brother must go back to Asgard. He will manage-"

"But he won't!" Tony snapped, this time being the one to stop walking as he lost the tenuous grip on his emotions. "You don't know him like I do! Not when he's like this!" He paused, taking a deep breath to reign his emotions while his words sunk in. Then Tony spoke again, this time quietly. "I don't know who Loki was before, nor do I really care. This is who he is now, and I won't let you hurt him."

"Then what would you have me do, Man of Metal?" Thor asked, not angrily but dejectedly. "Loki cannot hide from his crimes."

"What I'm asking you to do is give him more time. Delay making him go back, even if only for a month. Give him time to recover and get used to the idea, and then he can go back with you." Although Tony didn't like the idea of Loki going back there at all; he just wasn't optimistic enough to think that there was a better option. No matter what they did it would lead to disaster. That's just how things were when the God of Chaos was involved.

"And give him time to flee somewhere so I can never see him again? I think not."

Tony chuckled darkly. "Believe me, he's not going anywhere. He'd not risk blanking out somewhere else." Nor would Loki leave Tony behind, not after all the effort he put into deceiving the man.

Thor was still doubtful- understandably, because Loki actually had run away, but he did come back in the end -so Tony tried one last time. "I promise that he won't leave. Threaten me as collateral if you have to, but you have to give him more time."

There was an idea in Tony's statement- the undeniable fact that Loki would never let Tony get hurt for him - that contradicted all of the doubt he had festering inside. And yet it was not enough to stop the spread of betrayal, touching happy memories and perverting them into something bitter.

Tony pushed that aside and focused on the god, who was staring intently at him as he mulled over the words. Those blue eyes dissected Tony's every confliction, and he was relieved when Thor abandoned him to look back where they had come- where Loki was. When the god turned back to him his lips were pressed firmly, and Tony felt dread creep up on him.

That fear dissipated when Thor bowed his head slightly in acquiescence. "Very well. I shall honor your request, Man of Metal. You have one month, but when I return my brother will come with me. I cannot pardon him anymore than that."

Somewhere an hourglass tipped over, and the first grain of sand fell to the gravity.

Tony swallowed loudly, then nodded. "Alright- one month. But you will leave him with me."

"Certainly," Thor agreed readily, like he hadn't even considered it being otherwise. "There is no one else I would rather entrust my brother to."

Staring back at the god, Tony decided right then he liked Thor. He didn't know what the god was normally like, but there was no doubt in his mind that Thor truly loved his brother; despite his obligation to the throne, the god would try to do what was best for Loki, and that was enough to endear him to Tony.

It also meant that there was far more to the story of the two brothers than Tony was aware; something had to happen for them to feel so drastically different about one another... or maybe not. Because Tony believed that underneath all that fury, Loki loved Thor too. The opposite of love is indifference, after all- not hate.

More than that, talking to Thor made Tony curious about who Loki had been. What was a product of the void, and what had come before that? With someone who knew those answers right in front of him, Tony began to talk without thinking.

"Your brother... what was he like? When he was younger and not as..." Broken. Jaded. Distrustful.

The abrupt change in topic through Thor off for a moment, but his expression was quick to become wistful and he answered, "He was... mischievous and lively. Ever since he was a boy he has been prone to pranks. They were never out of malice- it was simply who he was." Sorrow overcame the god's expression. "It wasn't until recently- before he... let go, that he had changed."

"Why?" Tony ignored the niggling doubt that said it wasn't his place to talk about Loki behind the god's back.

Guilt made Thor look away, though Tony had no reason to judge him for events long past. "Loki was always different," the god explained. "As we grew older it became apparent that he wasn't like the rest of his peers, and as such he was often excluded. He had few friends... if any at all."

"Because he's Jotun?" Tony asked, and the mere word alone had the power to make Thor flinch.

"No, I do not think so," Thor said, though to Tony he did not sound sure of his own words. "Loki is different from them as well. He holds to no definitions but his own."

Tony hummed in response, busy adding the new information to the puzzle that was Loki's mind. More questions came to mind, demanding to be asked, but this time he kept them to himself. Satiating his curiosity would be easy, but there was no point. While Thor could probably answer Tony's random questions, they were things that were meant for Loki.

Nor would the God of Thunder be able to answer the most important questions, the ones that Tony's mind constantly circled around: Why did Loki chose to force immortality upon me? And why me? What makes me so special in his eyes?

Sensing that the conversation was over, Thor turned back towards the direction Loki was and said, "We should return to my brother. After that I must return to my duties."

Tony turned as well, but his agreement died in his throat; he didn't want to go back yet. Going back meant he had to see Loki limp and unresponsive. It meant he had to face the reality of what Loki had done. But he no longer had any reason to stay away- he got Loki one month, though what good that would do them he didn't know.

When Tony didn't reply quick enough, Thor glanced back over at him curiously. Tony shook off the dark emotions cluttering his mind- he didn't want to give the god any reason to decide that he really should take Loki back to Asgard -and smiled wanly despite the fact that the couldn't see it.

"Works for me," Tony said, forcing his voice to be falsely chipper. He began the trek back to Loki, trying to ignore the uncertainty that increased with every step. When Thor was gone he could freak out; for now, he had to stay strong.

The god kept quiet as they walked, and Tony couldn't decide if that was a blessing or not; he craved a distraction, but they would undoubtedly end up on the topic of Loki. He ended up not saying a thing, and they arrived back at the clearing far too quickly. Only then was the silence broken by Thor's sorrowful, whispering murmur of, "Brother".

Thor quickened his pace to arrive at Loki's side- who, like Tony had said, remained untouched and lifeless where they had left him. Tony, on the other hand, stopped at the edge of the trees; he watched as Thor stood over his brother's still form, gazing down at Loki's slack face and closed eyes.

Devastated, the god's lips moved as he whispered to his brother, but Tony could not hear the words. Instead the god's actions spoke for themselves; Thor went to his knees, setting his hammer aside to reach out tentatively to his brother. His hand hovered Loki's pale skin, knowing that if the god were awake he'd be furious- but Loki wasn't awake, and when Thor brushed his fingers against the god's cheek he did not stir at all.

This time when Thor spoke to his unconscious brother, his words were loud enough for Tony to hear; though the man knew that the words were not meant for his ears, he listened anyway.

"I am truly sorry, brother," Thor murmured, threading his fingers through Loki's long hair with a look of anguish. "For so long you were alone, while I had no idea that such a cruel fate had befallen you." His hand pulled away, and his fist clenched. Voice heavy with determination, the god vowed, "I promise that I will protect you this time."

With one final look at his brother- his empty, wretched brother that was crushed beneath the merciless brunt of the world -Thor collected his hammer and got to his feet. If the god's eyes were a bit watery... well, Tony pretended that he didn't notice.

Thor turned to face him, somehow managing to look both regal and hopeless. "I will take my leave of you. But before I go..." His gaze darted down to Loki then dragged back up to Tony. "I know my brother did you wrong-" Hell yeah he did Tony wrong. He tricked him, lied to him, _betrayed_ him. "-but I beseech you not to hate him for it."

'Grand words from the guy who didn't even know his brother was alive until a month ago,' Tony thought with surprising vehemence- or not surprising at all. He was _furious_ at Loki; the inferno in his chest made his previous frustrations at the god seem cold in comparison. This anger was not one that could be put out with pretty words and tokens.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever," he replied flippantly, wanting Thor to just leave.

Thor, with his unnervingly clear blue eyes, saw all of that beneath Tony's mask; he was not so easily fooled- a necessary skill when your brother was a renowned liar. The god took a step forwards.

"Man of Metal... Tony. You must understand: Aesir- Jotun -live far longer than humans. Your life would have been nothing compared to his. I have no doubt that Loki only did this because you are extremely important to him. Be angry for his deception, but do not hate him for the love he has shown."

It took Tony a moment to find his voice. "That is between Loki and I," he said once again, in part because he honestly just did not know how else to answer. 'I'm not angry?' That was an obvious lie. 'Of course I don't hate him?' Those words were meaningless; Tony wasn't sure how to forgive Loki this time.

So instead he deflected the question, and followed with, "Don't you have a throne to warm or something?"

Thor frowned at him, but he backed off anyway. "All I ask is that you consider my words," he stated, and then he lifted his hammer above his head and began to spin it. Before Thor flung himself into the air he couldn't avoid looking at his brother one last time; his expression tightened, then the hammer's momentum became great enough to launch him into the sky. Mjolnir carried Thor away, leaving Tony alone with Loki.

After the Thunder God vanished on the horizon, Tony sighed and dragged himself over to the remaining god. He sat down beside Loki and stared at the deceivingly tranquil features. Dropping his head into his hands, the resulting clank contributing to his growing headache, Tony groaned, "You can never make things easy, can you?"

Loki of course said nothing, but for Tony the silence was answer enough.

"Jarvis, can you get a jet over here?" Then he chuckled lightly, feeling far from amused. "My teleporter is broken."

"Certainly, sir."

Leaning back slightly, Tony was aware of where his arm pressed against the god's side. A month. That was how long he had. It was better than nothing, but... that definitely wasn't enough time.

Already Tony could feel the month slipping away with each delay. The plane would take too long to get there. Loki would take too long to wake up. Tony didn't even want to think about how long it would take for them to sort through the whole apple mess; for all he knew, no time in the world could even fix it.

(But now Tony had all the time he could possibly need, didn't he? Regardless of what happened with Loki, he would still be immortal.)

Trying not to focus on the impending deadline, Tony thought of things he _could_ do. First things first, there were a few phone calls he had to make.

* * *

Note: My apologies for the delay; I unfortunately have the flu and am not very productive. The next chapter will also be delayed for this reason. (This chapter isn't even the full chapter. It's just the first half, but I figured I'd at least post something.)


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